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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28981323">Conduct Unbecoming</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale'>DixieDale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Garrison's Gorillas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:54:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28981323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
            <p>When an anonymous tipster whispers a lurid and shocking hint of Garrison's Valentine's Day plans, Major Kingston decides to use the opportunity to destroy Craig Garrison and his Gorillas, once and for all.  That section on 'Conduct Unbecoming An Officer and A Gentleman' wasn't tucked into the regulations just to add to the word count, after all!</p>
          </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Valentine's Day Revels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When an anonymous tipster whispers a lurid and shocking hint of Garrison's Valentine's Day plans, Major Kingston decides to use the opportunity to destroy Craig Garrison and his Gorillas, once and for all.  That section on 'Conduct Unbecoming An Officer and A Gentleman' wasn't tucked into the regulations just to add to the word count, after all!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Back to back to back missions, and any romantic plans for Valentine's Day Garrison's guys might have had were reluctantly scrapped.  Still, it looked like they'd be in London for the evening of the 14th before heading out again the following day, and Lieutenant Craig Garrison had a few interesting plans for a private celebration, just him and his guys - something keyed specifically to meeting a man's more basic needs. </p><p>When an anonymous tipster whispered a lurid and shocking hint of those plans, and that whisper reached the ears of an eager Major Kingston, their frequent adversary decided to use the opportunity to destroy Craig Garrison and his Gorillas, once and for all.  As the sour-faced Kingston commented to himself as he hastily made the necessary arrangements, "the section on 'Conduct Unbecoming An Officer and A Gentleman' wasn't tucked into the regulations just to add to the word count, after all!"  It was perhaps telling that a face that sour could hold a smile that satisfied at the thought of the evening to come.</p><p>It had started out innocently enough.  Hotel Marchant's only demi-suite had been reserved under the name of Lieutenant Craig Garrison.  A demi-suite - really just a fancy name for an oversized bedroom with an attached sitting area - a pair of couches and a pair of stuffed armchairs, a coffee table, a couple of end tables, and occasional chairs around a round table, all at the opposite end of the room from the curtained full-sized bed.  All the furnishings were quite nice, at least a step or two up from the standard bedrooms; it even had its own private dumbwaiter to provide refreshments if any were requested.</p><p>Henri Marchant, owner of the hotel, was no dummy.  When two standard bedrooms had been damaged in a brawl between two guests, serious renovations had been needed.  He'd taken stock, considered the possibilities.  Two standard rooms with standard rates, or one 'demi-suite' at three times the standard rate.  The right promotion, the right word of mouth, and now the place was hardly ever unoccupied; often there was even a waiting list.  There was a special cachet attached to that demi-suite; it was located at the end of a short hallway, only two other rooms in that stretch and those were closer to the staircase and elevator, which raised the level of privacy considerably since no one needed to pass by on the way to their own rooms.  All in all, it was considered a special venue for special guests, and tonight those guests would be Lieutenant Craig Garrison and his team.    </p><p>The five men had arrived - Lieutenant Garrison, his second-in-command known as Actor, plus Chief, Casino, Goniff, all just as had been described to Corporal Barstow.  The men were different enough in appearance that their observer had no problem telling who was who.</p><p>Barstow, watching and listening from his hidden post in the next room, thought they seemed more weary than you'd expect from men up to the sort of mischief (if you could call it that!) he'd been warned to expect.  A bottle of whiskey had been waiting, was opened, drinks passed around, some laughter, some joking ensuing.  </p><p>There'd been some desultory mention of a game of cards, but that had been pushed aside as being a little dull, or maybe requiring more concentration than they were willing to give.  There seemed to be an odd nervous energy in the air, a sense of anticipation that ruffled the senses, though Barstow could see nothing that would account for such a thing and put it down to his own uneasiness at his assigned role.</p><p>It continued that way for maybe half an hour, boredom striving to attain tedium but being prevented by that odd SOMETHING that hovered just out of reach of the apparent senses.   That was long enough for Corporal Barstow to decide maybe he was on a fool's errand, that the information his superior had received had been wrong.  He would have been just as happy about that, though he knew Major Kingston would be extremely annoyed, probably find a way to blame Barstow for shortcircuiting his plans, {"though how I could have done that, I don't know!"}.  He'd actually hoped against hope that Major Kingston HAD been wrong, didn't want to believe anything like that about fellow soldiers.  Actually renting a hotel room as nice as that one for their debauchery instead of visiting one of the houses set up for that very thing!  Right among decent people and all!  </p><p>Well, that was the point, though, wasn't it?  These WEREN'T fellow soldiers, except for the officer in there.  These were convicts, hardly models of virtue by any means.</p><p>He'd been uneasy with his assignment, thinking about some loose women being brought in to amuse the men.   He didn't approve of that, but over time he'd come to expect (though never really ACCEPT) that sort of behavior from others, others who'd not been raised with proper standards as he had been.</p><p>Frankly, HE thought that if Major Kingston was so sure there was something planned for tonight, something so bad it could be used to take that Lieutenant Garrison and his band of nasty-minded reprobates out of commission, then the Major should have been the one to stay and watch and catch them in the act.  </p><p>But, officers being officers, that wasn't the way of it.  No, Kingston and the waiting MP's were in a room down the hall, waiting for Barstow to give them the high sign.</p><p>"Probably having a nice drink and a smoke, too, while leaving me with the dirty job.  Too high-minded to get HIS eyes soiled by any of those doings!" Barstow muttered to himself.</p><p>So there Barstow was, in the next room over from demi-suite Lieutenant Garrison had rented for the night.  Just lucky they'd been given word by that anonymous informant in plenty of time for all the necessary arrangements to have been made.  That meant Barstow was now peeking through a small hole bored in the adjoining wall, listening over that tiny microphone planted in there.  </p><p>{"Otherwise, I suppose I'd have found myself hiding in the closet like a sneak thief, or under the bed like a common pervert!"} he thought gloomily.  Of course, neither of those would have left him in a viable position to alert Major Kingston that it was time to bring in the MP's, so maybe not.</p><p>But it seems that having a few loose women in for some immoral behavior wasn't the direction things were headed.  He preferred that would have been all there was to it, just the women, along with some heavy drinking probably, though that would have bad enough in his estimation.  Still, he supposed it wouldn't matter too much to his boss how offended or humiliated Barstow would be by having to act as witness, perhaps even testify to what was being planned, what might yet occur.  </p><p>In fact, he thought glumly, for Major Kingston, this could be better, more condemning, more valuable as pressure or prosecuting evidence, whichever way the officer decided to take things.  </p><p>Still, Barstow was a strict moralist and although he had been able to make whatever mental and moral equivocations had been needed between his rigid upbringing and the requirements of his current job, this was really far, far beyond the line!  He was purely sure he'd never be able to scrub the stain off his immortal soul, even with the help of all the religious men in the city, no matter how many contributions he agreed to make to their offering plates in return for their intercession!</p><p>Because, in the blink of an eye, that smooth-talking Lieutenant Craig Garrison changed the tone, and with just one sensuous smile and a whispered suggestion to one of the men that air of expectation heightened to where it was almost visible. </p><p>Barstow had watched in increasing dismay as Garrison stood, stretched luxuriously, then moved gracefully over to lean down and place one hand on Goniff's shoulder and whisper something directly into the other man's ear.</p><p>Barstow soon wanted to groan with disappointment, would have if he hadn't been worried someone would hear him, discovering him at his spying, his eavesdropping.  </p><p>Goniff had jerked his head back, those eyes flaring wide.</p><p>{"With shock?  Astonishment?  What?"} Barstow wondered.</p><p>"Ruddy 'ell!  You mean it?  'Ere?  Now??  Really??  Coo, that would be beyond lovely!  Talk about making a bloke's night; you just might make my w'ole bleedin' year!!" Goniff had replied in a rusty sounding voice, and incredulously, at least to Barstow, that look of shock had turned to one of avid interest, even wholehearted lust!  Goniff's restless hands stroked once down his thighs, from his hips to his knees, as if to wipe away sudden moisture from his palms.</p><p>Garrison smiled, smug satisfaction written large on his face, gauging the high level of interest his proposition had received.</p><p>{"Ewwwww!  You'd think he would have sent the others away before he made his pitch,"} Barstow grimaced.  Still, he expected the other three men to be dismissed at that point, sent on their way to amuse themselves however they might, while the officer indulged in his own amusements.  </p><p>But seemingly that wasn't the plan, not from how the two blond men were now involved in that avid whispering back and forth.  There was discussion, maybe some negotiating, it would seem, but no push back, no rebuttal or anything else you might have expected from the man being approached so brazenly like that.  It even seemed Goniff was in full approval of whatever the lieutenant had been suggesting!  Suddenly Goniff inhaled deeply and blinked rapidly as if realising how fast things were moving along.  Barstow had thought then that Goniff might be reconsidering, thinking about setting up some objections, but that wasn't the case.</p><p>No, Goniff had glanced around at the others, and asked in an eager tone of voice, "and they can stay and join in, right?  Wouldn't seem right, otherwise.  Don't like to think of them doing without; I'm willing to share.  Within reason, of course," he'd added, with a coy look.  "I 'ave a right 'ealthy appetite, you know, w'en the right sort of thing is served up; 'ope you've taken that into consideration."  That rapid waggling of his eyebrows had been profoundly disturbing to Barstow, almost as much as that wicked suggestion!</p><p>In return, Garrison had given the man a smile that was equally wicked and alluring beyond measure.  Barstow was sure Satan himself at his most tempting couldn't have done it any better.  Only his strict upbringing kept even HIM from being tempted!  Well, and the knowledge that Major Kingston would be expecting him to report at the first viable sign that solid evidence was at hand.</p><p>"I think I can handle your appetite, Goniff.  And I see no reason for the others to leave.  I think I can handle their appetites too, without leaving you wanting."</p><p>Barstow shivered with his sudden reaction to that slow silky-smooth voice, his revulsion mixed with something he preferred not to consider too closely {"get thee behind me, Satan!!"}, though he thought the reaction within that room was a little mixed too, not immediate acceptance anyway.  </p><p>"Craig, perhaps it would be best if we DID leave.  There just might not be - well, I'd not like us to partake if it would, what is the American term, 'run anyone short'," Actor said, though with a touch of reluctance in his voice at the thought of missing out on what was in store.</p><p>"Damn straight, Beautiful!  When you were talking about taking advantage of it being Valentine's Day and all, Warden, maybe tending to some of the 'more basic needs', I kinda had something different in mind??!  Dames, ya know?   You don't mind, think I'll head downstairs and see what's available in the lounge," Casino said, starting to rise and do just that.  "Come on, Indian; bet we can even find someone for you."</p><p>"Well, you wanna leave, that's your choice, Pappy, but I'm staying.  Think maybe you should too; think you might be missing out on one hell of a time.  There's some needs a woman just can't scratch, ya know," Chief drawled from where he was stretched out in a chair.</p><p>Casino grumbled at that idea, but settled back down anyway, willing to be convinced.</p><p>Goniff quickly protested the idea of anyone leaving.  "Come on, guys," he pleaded.  "It sounds fabulous, and never mind running anyone short, Actor.  You know w'en 'e puts 'is mind to it, the lieutenant knows 'ow to put a plan together!  From w'at 'e just said, sounds like 'e 'as enough 'variety' on the 'menu', everyone can get their fill!  Like 'e said, can't imagine anyone going wanting!"</p><p>Garrison had offered a slow sensuous smile to the small blond, and actually purred his response.  "I'm gratified by your show of confidence in my abilities, Goniff, especially since I planned tonight's pleasures particularly with you in mind.  I promise I have every intention of living up to that confidence.  I DO know what you like, you know.  And, Actor, he's right.  All things taken into consideration, I imagine there'll be more than enough to go around.  I know I'm in the mood to handle my share!  Starting right about now, unless you have any objections."</p><p>Goniff swallowed audibly, shivered, ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, though whether from anticipation or nervousness Barstow wasn't sure at first.  The heated desire in those blue eyes pointed in the direction of the former, as the man's next eager words proved out.</p><p>"No objections, lieutenant.  None whatsoever.  Right now sounds ruddy good!" came the rapid response, along with a smile of such wicked eager intent that Barstow once again shuddered at where his duty had landed him.  </p><p>Still, surely that was enough, along with what was likely to be happening when Major Kingston came busting through that door.  He didn't actually have to stay and WITNESS any of that!  Although he wouldn't have admitted it, he was afraid if he DID stay, saw any of what was to come, it would shatter illusions, change a world-view he'd never before questioned - perhaps change him, his own life, in ways he'd never thought possible.  He'd heard a minister or two warn about things like that happening.</p><p>Before he could give in to temptation, Barstow hastened to disconnect the listening device, drew back from that discreet, if unauthorized, hole that had been bored in the wall of that private room at Hotel Marchant.  Quickly he grabbed his coat from the chair and dashed out to notify his superior that the suppositions had been right and the proof - the absolute, prosecutable proof! was just about to begin in Lieutenant Craig Garrison's room!  </p><p>Kingston was maintaining a good front, preferring to show righteous moral indignation instead of the kick-up-your-heels jubilation he was actually experiencing.  Finally, the proof of misconduct he needed to get Garrison kicked out of the service entirely!  And, although his erstwhile 'partner' didn't know it, the proof he needed to get those cons sent back to the cells they never should have been taken from in the first place.  No, his partner preferred the team stay together, just getting Garrison out of the way.  Well, Kingston had other plans, would deal with EJ Moore's annoyance later.  In the meantime, it was all going his way!  Finally, caught in the act - 'conduct unbecoming' for Garrison and all that, and in a way that no one could argue against the harshest of consequences being levied!  That fool Barstow would be perfect as a primary witness; his shock and outrage would be real enough to convince anyone, which is why Kingston hadn't told the corporal of just how damning those whispers really had been. The team would be disbanded, the men sent back!  This was even better than arranging for them to fail on one of their missions, something he'd tried but been unable to arrange so far, though Lord knows he'd done his best!!</p><p>The MP's just behind him, he moved silently to the door, readying the pass key he'd badgered out of the owner.   Well, the threats of putting this place off limits due to Marchant's 'allowing moral turpitude on the premises' had gotten a speedy turnabout and cooperation after that first refusal.</p><p>Now, the loud moans of ecstasy coming from inside, obviously from at least two different individuals, brought a sneer of satisfaction to Kingston's face.  Handing the key to one of the MP's, he jerked his head at the door.  </p><p>"Inside, quick and hard!  No slip-ups!  No chance to cover up what's going on in there!  This time I've got them dead to rights!"</p><p>And so it was - the MP's burst in with such force as to shatter the locking mechanism even though they'd used the key provided.  They stopped suddenly, confused, enough Kingston had to push his way impatiently through to see just how bad it truly was.</p><p>A look of shock and surprise was apparent on Garrison's face, on each of his men's faces, at being invaded like that, being caught in their open enjoyment of their pleasures, enjoyment of taking care of some of those 'basic needs', though perhaps that shock was matched by what was showing on Kingston's face at the scene in front of him.  The MPs were looking more confused than anything else.</p><p>Goniff's long drawn out moan of ecstasy turned into an audible gulp at the intrusion, then transformed into a groan of frustration.  He was sitting crosslegged on the floor, well within reach of the trays laid out on the coffee table, caught in the act of reaching out for what looked like a mini-shortbread log topped with spice and chopped nuts.  He nervously licked his lips to get rid of the last traces of chocolate and jelly from that heart-shaped and ganache-laden cherry tartlet he'd just finished.  </p><p>He glanced longingly at the trays, their contents, hoping this didn't take too long; he really wanted to get back to the pleasures that had been promised him for this impromptu Valentine's Day celebration.  He'd started at the wrong end of things, dessert first, at least the way some might be looking at it, but he hadn't intended to eat more than his share.  He'd actually counted them out, all those lovely bits intended for 'afters', making his selections carefully so as not to hog the most delectible, just to be sure he wouldn't be shorting his teammates.  It was just that he believed in getting the most important things taken care of first, just in case.  Like now, that just-in-case being that ruddy Major Kingston showing up uninvited.  Well, more or less uninvited.</p><p>Casino didn't feel guilty, just annoyed, as he broke off that low prolonged moan of gustatory pleasure and hurried to take the last bite of that loaded double cheeseburger so it wouldn't get cold.  First decent burger he'd had in months, a second just sitting there waiting for him, and Kingston had to show up.  Hell!  He'd even tried that weird kinda mustard that was sitting there, some fancy-schmancy kind, not yellow like he was used to, more a rich honey brown.  He'd left it off the first half of his burger, not trusting it, but temptation forced him to give it a try on the second half.  The whole mustard seeds popping between his teeth, releasing that sudden burst of heat and flavor, mingled with that faint hint of honey, that had made a believer out of him and he'd intended to give that next cheeseburger a good slathering right from the start.  Now he would be forced to wait and by then the burgers would probably be cold!</p><p>Chief casually reached out for the pile of fries and onion rings, putting another handful on his plate to accompany what was left of his own burger.  He figured Garrison and Actor could handle Kingston even on the major's best day, figured they didn't need his mixing in.</p><p>Actor paused in his enjoyment of that moderately-decent red wine he'd poured to accompany the various samplings from the platters delivered via dumbwaiter only a few minutes before, as soon as they'd gotten the signal.  It was not the haute cuisine he usually preferred, but he was taking a certain guilty pleasure in what had been provided, especially in what Garrison had explained were 'onion rings', along with Marchant's version of rumaki.  He thought the dipping sauce for the latter contained honey, not much, but providing an unexpected and surprisingly agreeable touch to the savory salty and slightly bitter organic taste of the bacon-wrapped grilled chicken livers.  He had been guiltily considering seeing what one of those onion rings might be like when annointed with that same dipping sauce, or maybe some of that whole grain mustard, when the door had burst open.  He looked at Garrison seated across from him at the small table.  </p><p>"You did not mention you had invited anyone else to partake of our little Valentine's Day celebration, Lieutenant.  Are you sure there will be enough for everyone?" he inquired calmly.</p><p>"They were not invited, certainly not by me.  Major Kingston, is there a problem?" Lieutenant Garrison asked politely.  "And are you aware you seem to have broken Mr. Marchant's door?  I doubt he is going to be any too pleased, and frankly, I didn't budget for any repairs.  Rounding up the food and wine was difficult enough, what with rationing and everything.  Oh, it's not everyone's idea of the perfect Valentine's Day celebration, I admit, but we just got back and are headed back out again tomorrow.  There wasn't time for much in the way of other plans, and this keeps everyone together til we take off on the next job, just as my superiors suggested."  </p><p>That look, that cool smile, was all that could be expected from one professional to another.  The venom behind each set of eyes was noted, but not so obvious that it had to be addressed in front of witnesses.</p><p>Kingston flushed, tried to hem and haw, but really, none of his men were going to back him up, say they saw something other than what they actually DID see, except under strict orders, and even that wouldn't fly.  Not now.</p><p>Because the doorway behind him was now filled with people peering in at all the commotion.  Those included several miscellaneous hotel guests, a few of whom Kingston recognized, much to his dismay, along with a few hotel employees, AND the indignant proprietor, Henri Marchant, of course, who was examining his ruined door with deep displeasure.</p><p>Soon the room was empty of all except the original occupants, the door propped back in place by virtue of a chair shoved under the knob.  The listening device had been yanked out and handed over to a seething Henri Marchant, the peephole blocked with a wad of chewing gum.  </p><p>Marchant had firmly announced his intention of including THAT damage AND the injury to the door straight to the room rental for adjacent room occupied by Barstow and the other taken over without the formality of a rental by Kingston and the MP's, and as much else as he could think of, including emotional damages incurred by his guests, his staff and himself.  It promised to be a considerable tab once completed.  Whether it would ever be paid was another story, but at least he would have the grim satisfaction of having submitted it.  It was wartime; one got one's satisfaction where one could find it.</p><p>"Ruddy 'ell, things 'ave all gotten cold," Goniff complained, poking sadly at the platters of food.  Not that he didn't intend to dig back in, of course; he hadn't even sampled any of the more hearty fare yet.   But still, it was a shame; it had all been so nice.</p><p>"Nevermind, Goniff.  Henri had a little brazier sent up with the rest, just as I asked.  It should still be in the dumbwaiter.  I THOUGHT we might be interrupted, you know.  You go ahead, get it going, get things heated up again," Garrison smiled contentedly.  "It won't be perfection, but it will do well enough, I imagine."</p><p>He settled back, poured himself another glass of wine, refilling Actor's glass as well.</p><p>"Well, are you pleased with yourself, Craig?  The evening is going precisely as you planned, it would seem," Actor offered, still a little puzzled at the 'why' of this whole charade.</p><p>"Hell, Beautiful!  Why shouldn't he be pleased?  What more could you ask, huh?  Some decent grub, a little vino, one hell of a good con on that asshole Kingston, one that should keep him off our case for a little while anyhow??!   Could it get any better than that?"</p><p>Chief snorted, "I'd have thought you'd still be complaining about no women, Pappy."</p><p>Casino hesitated, then shook his head firmly.  "Nah, some things are so perfect, even having a few likely dames around wouldn't make em any better!  Man, those burgers AND the look on Kingston's face!!!"</p><p>Goniff, busy transferring things to the bed of that brazier to reheat, nodded in agreement.  "Just like you promised, Lieutenant.  Can't think of much that would make it any better!"</p><p>Well, actually he could, and that fast glance in Garrison's direction let the man know that, but you couldn't always have EVERYTHING the way you wanted it, not even on Valentine's Day, not even one as satisfying as this one was turning out to be.  And besides, his opinion, greatly influenced by the vaguaries of war, was rapidly becoming that holidays were as much a state of mind as they were anything else.  </p><p>{"No one to say you can't just do another Valentine's Day w'enever you take a fancy, now is there?  Could put together a w'ole string of them if you wanted!"} he thought with deep satisfaction.  </p><p>He figured Craig would think pretty much the same, once Goniff explained it all to him.  Craig was a reasonable sort, most of the time.  </p><p>Now wasn't the time, though; he had a feeling a very serious conversation was about to take place between their leader and his SIC, if not right now, then very soon.  Well, there were a couple of things Actor needed to know, and it was probably high time.  Tonight had been a lot of fun, but the reason behind it was deadly serious, and sooner or later they'd have to deal with that reason - EJ Moore - before one or more of them ended up dead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Actor looked around and sighed.  It had been a good night, if a rather odd one, but obviously it was drawing to a close.  In fact, everyone but Garrison and himself had already packed it in.  Chief had taken one couch, Casino the other.  Goniff had most ingeniously faced two of the big armchairs towards each other, placing the two matching hassocks in between, forming a snug sleeping nook.  Henri had thoughtfully left extra blankets and quilts and pillows, so everyone was comfortable and warm.  </p><p>Actor would be sharing the bed with Garrison for the few hours before they rose for an early breakfast and another go-through on the mission before they headed out.  They'd shared before when quarters were tight, would again many times before the war was over - not their bed companion of choice, for either of them, but since sleep was all they intended, it would work fine, as always.</p><p>"Craig?  I haven't asked, and there really wasn't time.  But why arrange for the anonymous message to be leaked to Kingston, why this entire charade?  Oh, it will be good to have him off our backs for awhile, but you know he will not forget this humiliation, will only add it to the list of grievances he bears against you and us.  Would it not have been better to leave well enough alone?"</p><p>Garrison paused in the process of removing his jacket, hesitated then nodded firmly.  Yes, it was important that Actor knew, just in case.  He didn't want to think about what that 'just in case' might entail, but this wasn't something he felt was safe to keep to himself any longer.  Well, Goniff knew, but whether Actor would take the pickpocket's word for something like this was anyone's guess, especially if everything hit the fan.  Garrison had debated whether tonight was the right time, but with the mission looming over them, it probably was.  Every mission was one more chance of him catching that final bullet, or something just as fatal, and he couldn't leave this to chance. </p><p>"Kingston has been spending time with EJ Moore, Actor, and I don't like it.  Makes the hair on the back of my neck go up, and that's never a good sign.  One or the other is bad enough; a team-up between those two might just be more than we can handle without real repercussions.  I wanted to rock his boat a little, maybe have HQ a little less anxious to go along with any plans he, they might be making.  At least until I can figure out what to do about this mess."</p><p>"Mess?  I don't understand.  And EJ Moore?  Why the concern?  She is quite a competent operative, at least from what I've seen the few times we've been teamed up.  You aren't holding that incident in Spain against her, are you?  I do not, and I was the one who ended up injured in that log trap.  Things happen in the field, you know that," Actor frowned, puzzled.  </p><p>This wasn't like Garrison.  And no matter what some others might think if they'd heard that commentary, it wouldn't be because EJ Moore was female.  Moore wasn't the only female operative they worked with, and Actor had never seen any sign of such a prejudice in the man.</p><p>Garrison looked at Actor steadily, then sighed and sat down again.  He really wanted a stiff drink before discussing all this, but mixing the wine they'd just had with whiskey then heading out on a sub was NOT a good idea.  He settled for pouring himself a tall glass of water from the carafe.</p><p>"That was no accident or mischance or anything so innocent, Actor.  She tried to kill you.  I didn't catch on that first time, put it down, as you did, to you being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I didn't start to catch on til she tried to kill Goniff the next time we were out together.  The only 'accident' was that she didn't succeed in either case.  Different reasons, or at least somewhat, though maybe at the base, it really WAS the same, I suppose.  You each had something she wanted, or stood between her and something she wanted, which in her mind might be pretty much the same thing."  </p><p>He rubbed the back of his head.  He was tired, needed sleep, obviously, if he tried to dissect those last two convoluted sentences into something that made sense.  Yet this was something he'd waited too long to deal with, hoping the problem would just go away.  For awhile it had looked that way, like it might, but the new info he had about Kingston and Moore spending time together, that had changed his mind.  Things were going to get worse before they got any better if he was reading the cards right.</p><p>Actor stared, then sat back down, heavily.  "It would seem it is not yet time to retire for the night.  Tell me the whole story."</p><p>The conman already knew part of it, of course, at least the occurrence on that first mission, though the second was only from what the rest of the team had said, him still recupperating from his injuries, but the rest was an eyeopener.</p><p>"So, once she was in your good graces, which she certainly was after her playing her role so excellently on the last two jobs she assisted with, she felt free to make a move?  Then, on that next mission, eliminate me, so she could step up, volunteer for the team, become SIC due to her experience, and thus have one more credential for gaining her own team.  Perhaps even our team, should anything happen to you.  </p><p>"Very well, I understand so far, at least the facts, though the rest still escapes me.  So, she failed to eliminate me, and decided to make another try against a team member?  I don't see how that fits, not with Goniff being targeted, if it was the way you said?  Why, Craig?  I would still be in her way, was still SIC.  And Goniff?  He has no inclination toward becoming SIC, would shy away if anyone ever thought to offer it to him.  Indeed, so would Chief, though Casino MIGHT be willing, although I've seen no ambition in that direction."</p><p>Garrison wearily ran his hand over his hair.  "She had an alternate plan, or maybe just a side-by-side.  Seduce me, get me involved in a personal relationship, exert enough influence, benign or otherwise, to have me sponser her for a team leader position or perhaps another SIC role somewhere in the Special Forces/Special Ops area.  Goniff was an impediment to that."</p><p>Actor frowned, the deeply concerned look he gave Garrison asking that question he didn't even want to consider.</p><p>Garrison shook his head in rapid denial.  "No; she certainly didn't see him as a rival, thank goodness!  It's simpler than that; very simple, in fact.  </p><p>"He was running interference for me.  Well, not from the beginning.  He saw what she was up to, of course, knew I wanted no part of it, that it was messing up the operation, but he waited, held off til he was sure which way I wanted to play things.  We keep business, business, you know that, Actor; we don't let the personal interfere with the job.  We CAN'T.  So, he didn't react, he waited for my direction.   </p><p>"I'd finally given him the 'rescue me' sign we use sometimes.  I've used it with you a few times too, remember?  But this time he was in the right position and you weren't, so he got the ball.  He stepped in to play gooseberry from that point on, somehow just in the way every time she'd make a move.  She got tired of it, decided to put a stop to his interference once and for all.  I don't even know if she realized it was deliberate; I rather doubt it.  She more probably just thought he was bumbling around in that clueless fashion he does so well.  In any case, he was interfering with her plans and she decided to make him stop, whatever that took.  </p><p>"He was bringing up the end position; the rest of us had already gone up - Chief first to scout, then me, Casino, her, Goniff coming last to shimmy up that rope and gather it along with him.  That accident on the cliff, the rope breaking - there wasn't time to go back and check - I was too concerned about hauling him off that ledge he'd landed on - but I'll swear it was tampered with before he started the climb, Actor.  She'd gone up just ahead of him, had fumbled around getting up that last stretch, had taken a little extra time getting over the edge.  It would have given her enough time to cut the rope part of the way through.  If he wasn't just that good at what he does, he would have probably broken his neck, not just gotten bruised to hell and back.  </p><p>"And I saw the look on her face when he yelled as that rope gave way, Actor; pure malicious satisfaction, nothing less, before it turned to anxious concern."</p><p>Actor reached for the wine bottle, then hesitated and followed Garrison's example, pouring a glass from the water carafe instead.  He also was thinking about that upcoming ride in a sub, or he would have opted for something far stronger.</p><p>"All to climb the ladder to success in her chosen profession.  How very - - corporate of her.  How many bodies were to form the rungs of her ladder, I wonder?"</p><p>"As many as it took to take her where she thought she should be, I suppose.  I expect if she'd gotten her way, once she'd been in the SIC position - with us or someone else - whoever was the team leader would have been living on borrowed time. Unless he got lucky and another leadership spot opened up that she thought would work better.  That HQ might have different ideas on the leadership position?  I wouldn't be surprised if she's not already made plans for that, maybe have one or two bigwigs ready to apply a little pressure.  She is very smart and, as you know, very beautiful.  If she tried to seduce me to get ahead, get leverage - well, I doubt I'm the first.</p><p>"There's no proof, of course, for any of this; nothing I could go to anyone with officially.  If you haven't noticed, anyone who's said so much as a word against her runs up against that 'it's because she's a woman' nonsense.  With some people that might be true; there's a lot of so-called traditionalists out there.  But the team leaders, they know better than to judge someone on that.  There's some damned good female agents out there and we know it.</p><p>"I've managed to put a stop to her working with us since then, at least so far, headed off any matchups that have been proposed.  I've let all the other team leaders know at least that I'm not comfortable with her, don't trust her because of her ambition; a few, I've told more, the ones I know are rock-solid.  It's hard to know how much to say, you know, before the blowback becomes almost as dangerous as she is.  </p><p>"But you need to know, Actor.  She may try for you again.  And if something happens to me - you need to know.  And if she gets Kingston behind her, she could play it that way.  If I was out of the way, if she volunteered to take on the team - it could just happen.  Hell, could happen with ANY of the teams!"</p><p>Actor shook his head in frustrated agreement.  "Craig, just when I think this war and our part in it could not get any more complicated . . .!"  </p><p>And never mind they'd be diving out of an airplane in a very few hours, by mutual decree, Actor poured them each one small whiskey.  The moment just cried out for it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sometimes A Woman Just Can NOT Get A Break!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>EJ Moore was thoroughly pissed off!  It had been a simple enough plan - get a few people on her side, get into a SIC position with one of the Special Forces or Special Ops teams.  From there to Team Leader might take awhile, but it should be manageable.  All she needed was a lucky break!</p><p>Oh, it wouldn't have worked with the regular military, but the Specials had various and sundry types as their Team Leaders - some military, both officers and a couple of non-coms, and some non-military as well, including some very odd individuals, in fact.  It was time they included a woman in that group, and she was determined it was going to be her.  Who on earth would be better suited, after all??!</p><p>Yes, it should have been simple; she'd even been willing to start with the least desirable team, Garrison's lot.  But first the plan to remove their current SIC so she could slide into that spot - that had failed, just due to blind stupid luck on the Italian's part.  </p><p>Her backup plan involving getting nice and cozy with Craig Garrison had come to nothing, mostly because of that interfering little Cockney they had on the team.   She knew it hadn't been intentional; the pickpocket simply wasn't intelligent enough to see or understand what she was attempting, but that didn't really help matters!  Talk about a man with the knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time!   Even if she DID manage to take over that team, she wasn't sure his supposed 'skills' would make up for the annoyance of dealing with that sheer clueless idiocy on a regular basis!  The question was, get rid of him now or later, but she'd thought NOW might work out best.  Yes, that would probably leave Garrison a little off balance, she could do a little special comforting.  That could work out quite well.</p><p>Well, NOTHING had worked out!  She'd ALMOST managed to get rid of that irritating pickpocket, but again, blind luck intervened.  Sometimes a woman just could NOT get a break!!</p><p>She didn't think Garrison had caught on, precisely; well, men rarely did where she was concerned.  But he sure was making as much of a nuisance out of himself as if he HAD understood, because now he kept coming up with reasons why she 'just wasn't quite what he needed' for a job.  </p><p>Well, who needed him and his bunch of misfits anyway!!!  Garrison's Gorillas wasn't the ONLY team out there!</p><p>Then, for some unknown reason, the other team leaders started doing the same thing, always coming up with an excuse not to have HER work on one of their operations.   </p><p>Why the Handlers were letting those infuriatingly superior men make those decisions instead of just telling them to shut up and follow orders, she just couldn't figure out.  Oh, there were one or two Handlers who could see the light, didn't stand for any of that nonsense, but those were the once-in-awhile guys, ones like Major Kingston and that sort, the ones only involved in assignments when there was a backlog elsewhere.  And one or two of those on her side (or in her pocket) - that just was NOT going to get the overall job done!</p><p>Damn it!  She was perfectly capable of any of those jobs!  Probably could handle RUNNING the job too, just as well as whoever was in charge of the teams!</p><p>Well, they'd find out they couldn't push her around.  She would just have to bring in one of the bigger guns next time she came up in rotation.   Colonel Bellson, maybe.  He was becoming her willing puppet, ahem, her 'mentor', and if that included some time in her bed, so be it.  No, he wasn't nearly as attractive as some others, but unfortunately the ones who WERE quite attractive didn't seem to be, in some cases, as gullible as Bellson, or in other instances, having sufficient rank to do her any good.</p><p>Yes, 'Bellsie', as she playfully called him during their more intimate times, he could be quite helpful.  It would be easy enough to persuade him to tag along, ahem, 'provide moral support' during the next opportunity.  Then there would be some quick coming to attention and not being so difficult!   Soon!  Maybe even today!!</p><p> </p><p>Major Kevin Richards was not happy.  Well, he wouldn't be, not with Colonel Bellson mixing in his business for no apparent reason.  That calm and professional look on EJ Moore's face when she arrived for the briefing told him nothing, though there was just a hint of smug self-satisfaction in her blue eyes, and Bellson had offered no real explanation for why HE had accompanied the field agent.  Still, Bellson had the right security clearances and the rank, so evicting him would have proved awkward.  Richards ended up seating the two to the far left side of his desk.  Caulder was to the front, and when the last two prospective operatives arrived, Richards put them to his right.  {"If this keeps up, I'm going to need a larger office for these briefings!"}</p><p>Richards proceeded with outlining the basic situation for Team Leader Caulder, including the introduction of the O'Donnell twins who tentatively would be accompanying the team.</p><p>Explanations had been made earlier to EJ Moore what would be needed, the general idea anyway.  No details would be given til the deal was set, of course.  The same went for the O'Donnell siblings - a general outline, but no specifics.</p><p>Douglas O'Donnell nodded agreeably.  He'd been co-opted before, though it wasn't official, of course.  He wasn't under contract and wasn't likely to be, but he was willing to use his talents when they were needed, if the situation fit.  He exchanged a quick glance with his sister Coura, saw the agreement in her eyes, and replied for the both of them.</p><p>"So, with Team Leader Caulder and his men, alright," he nodded to those seated around the small office.  "We can handle the job rightly enough from what you've told us would be needed."</p><p>"Well, with Caulder and his team plus one other," Richards said, nodding toward the woman seated in the corner beside Colonel Bellson.  "EJ Moore, Douglas O'Donnell, Coura O'Donnell.  Don't let their youth fool you, Miss Moore; he's an expert forger and has enviable fighting skills, as does his sister; her other skills are a little less well defined," Richards offered in an exceedingly dry voice, "but equally of benefit in the field, I assure you."</p><p>While he'd perhaps expected pushback, it came from a direction he hadn't foreseen.  Well, he HAD been away for several weeks on an extended solo mission himself; just got back the morning before and dropped immediately back into the swing of things.  Any whispers on the Special Forces/Special Ops grapevine hadn't had time to catch up with him yet.</p><p>Douglas smiled, walked closer to hold out his hand to the politely nodding, if slightly skeptical, woman, but then his smile faded and he backed away.  He stared a moment longer, then briskly shook his head.</p><p>"No, Major, not with her.  With Caulder and his men, yes, but not with her."</p><p>Colonel Bellson frowned fiercely, stood and stepped forward.  </p><p>"What, young man?  It is hardly your place to decide who is assigned to missions, now is it??!  You'll do as you're instructed!"</p><p>"No, sir.   As you say, it's not my place to decide who is assigned.   But it IS up to me, or us anyway, to decide whether we will go along.  I'm an independent, in case you didn't know, as is Coura.  We can simply walk away.  And before working with her, we will do exactly that."</p><p>Coura smirked, sat back to enjoy the show.  Douglas had answered for her this time; it could have easily been the other way around.  They trusted each other's judgement.  It just depended on the circumstances which took the lead.  He had been close enough to the woman to see something he didn't like; that was good enough for her.   </p><p>She really wished they could check with some of their contacts on the teams to see if anyone had worked with the woman before, knew anything that might be of concern.  Before this meeting would have been ideal, but the call had come only that morning and with the dash to get there in time, there would have BEEN no time for any research even if they HAD known she was to be included, which they hadn't, of course.  Oh well, Douglas knew what he was about in any case.</p><p>EJ stood up, walked up to place a calming hand on the forearm of Colonel Bellson.  She'd trained him well, the twins thought; he quietened immediately, his body language making it apparent he was ceding the floor to her.  They'd seen their parents train their various animals, could see the similarities immediately.  Even Richards raised a questioning brow at that odd interchange.  {"Leadership qualities?  Or dominance?  Interesting."}</p><p>"So, Douglas," EJ purred in her most attractive voice, her most reassuring warm smile.  "You don't want to work with me?  Is it because I'm a woman?  I assure you, that will not be an issue; I will hardly slow down the mission.  You can ask Major Richards, or Team Leader Caulder, or various others.  I am quite competent, an excellent fighter."   </p><p>If combining sex appeal and professional competence might not have been what she'd have attempted against someone else, at least not at the same time, this teenaged boy would have fewer established defenses, should fall readily to that impressive mixture - or so she thought.</p><p>"I wouldn't doubt that you are quite competent," Douglas nodded in solemn agreement.  "I can't see Major Richards assigning you if you weren't.  And some of the most fierce fighters I have ever known have been women.  But you smell - - bad," he offered, frowning slightly as he tried to sort out all he was sensing from her.  "You look bad, too."</p><p>"See here, young man," Bellson erupted.  "How dare you be rude to Miss Moore!  Major Richards, do you mean to allow this untoward impertinence?"</p><p>"You can't tell, Colonel?  How can you NOT tell?" and Bellson stepped back in shock and alarm as the young man turned his head slowly toward the officer.  Douglas's dark eyes now were stark stone white, no color showing at all, simply a solid expanse of white.  His voice was changing too, deeper now, and becoming not quite a whisper, but close to it, with an odd half-echo to it.</p><p>{"Eerie, without a doubt!"} Richards thought with a shudder, wondering if it was a deliberate change or something more uncanny.  In either case, it was definitely disturbing to see and hear.  What Douglas followed with hardly improved the situation, at least not in Richards' view.</p><p>"She smells of death and betrayal, and bears the demon mark on her forehead.  LOOK at her, her hair, her lovely dark hair - see how it twines and writhes.  See them forming themselves from those glistening strands, LOOK at them - the shining vipers with their red eyes and black tongues flicking out to taste for her next victim.  But you can not see, can you, Colonel?  For she has already gathered you to her service, to do her bidding.  You have willingly cast aside your integrity to do her bidding, put aside your garments to lay beside the demon whore, to suckle the venom from her lips, to couple with her so that she might ripen and bear the fruit of her ambition.  And when it is done, she will devour the husk that remains of the man you once were.  WE do not go so easily to such fate, my sister and I."</p><p>It was as if the room was frozen, then the silence was broken by an impatient female voice scolding the young man.</p><p>"Oh good grief, Douglas!  Can't you just call a spade a spade?  I swear, when you go into Truth-Speaking mode, you get sooo la-de-da.  Reminds me of that conman of Garrison's sometimes!  Why not just say it out plain - that she's a manipulative self-serving oozing bag of poison, willing to go over and through anyone who stands in her way, whether she uses her wiles, her slit, or a sharp blade to get where she wants to be.  You included, Colonel Bellson, and while that may be YOUR choice, WE don't intend to be the next two bodies on the heap.  I can't imagine Caulder and his men being so eager for that either."</p><p>Caulder growled, "and that is the truth of it, in a nutshell, Major Richards," gaining a glare from Bellson in turn.  Well, he'd heard a few warnings from the other leaders, hadn't been happy to see EJ Moore in the room to begin with.</p><p>Douglas blinked several times, his eyes blinking back to the dark brown they usually were, and shook his head reprovingly at his sister.  </p><p>Having that little oddity to the muscles in and around his eyes made it possible, that little show; probably part of the Gift from the Sweet Mother, since he'd not heard of anyone outside the Clan being able to do that.  Well, probably part and parcel to doing a partial shift, though for him that was the only thing affected.   It would give him a headache, rolling his eyes back that far and all the rest, but it never failed to leave the proper impression on those watching; he found it quite helpful at times, such as now.   Now, his sister teasing him like that, it helped center him, helped him regain his sense of where and who he was, as did formulating an appropriate response.</p><p>"Coura, there's nothing wrong with having a fair tongue even in dire circumstances, you know.  You might try it sometime instead of being QUITE so plainspoken," he offered mildly.   {"Yes, that will happen 'when pigs fly', as I think the Outlander expression goes!  And I'd not want her to anyway.  One thing with Coura, you never have any doubt of where she stands.  Well, unless she's on a con, and she wouldn't, not with me."}</p><p>Richards cleared his throat.  "Well, as I was saying . . . ". </p><p>And his voice trailed off, partly because he didn't remember WHAT he'd been saying, and because no one was listening anyway.  They were too busy watching the purple-faced Colonel Bellson, an equally furious EJ Moore beside him, storm out of the office.  There would be repercussions, no doubt, but for now there was a mission to pull back together again.</p><p>Caulder leaned back, glad Garrison had given him and a few others a heads up, even more glad the two O'Donnell youngsters had given him the break he needed.  He hadn't much fancied heading out with EJ Moore, but hadn't seen much of a way around it, not with Bellson glaring at him so.  Of course, he was a little uneasy about heading out with this odd pair as well, but he'd heard good things about them from Ainsley and a couple others they'd worked with, so if he had a choice, he'd take them over Moore with all her supposed 'ambitions'.</p><p>"So, Major Richards.  Anyone else in rotation to take Moore's place?" he asked.  If not, they were going to be in a fine pickle; no way could the girl, no matter how talented, handle THAT role!  </p><p>He was wrong there; she could have if needs forced it, but someone else would be better.  Let her stick to her own specialties, and besides, she hadn't learned how to be in more than one place at the same time, and surely this assignment would require two females.  Though in a pinch, Douglas could do a credible impersonation.</p><p>"What?" Richards said, startled at the interruption to his thoughts.  "Ah, yes.  I believe Robbie McKenna is available, was next in rotation after Moore.  That should work, I believe," glancing over challengingly to the O'Donnell twins as if daring them to object.</p><p>If he'd been expecting any sign of regret or apology for turning his briefing into a side show and necessitating a last minute change of plan, he'd be waiting a long time, he could see that from the twin smirks on their faces.  Why that smirk reminded him of Garrison's pickpocket he wasn't sure, but it did NOT help the pounding headache he was getting!</p><p>"McKenna is good; I've met her.  She knows what she's about, nothing 'off' about her," Douglas agreed, that getting him a solid glare from Richards.</p><p>"I wasn't really asking your opinion, Douglas," came the repressive response.  Not that he had asked BEFORE either, of course, not that THAT had ever stopped any of the O'Donnell siblings.</p><p>"That's quite alright, Kevin," Coura said with a cheeky grin.  "No extra charge, you know; just part of the usual toll.  Don't like adding up all the little bits and pieces to come up with a tab, you know, not unless there's something really special involved."</p><p>And when it was over and done, mission accomplished, Caulder had reported to Richards with a rueful laugh.</p><p>"And it WAS alright!  McKenna pulled off the job without a hitch; those two, Douglas and Coura, well, you didn't tell the half of it!  Smooth, slick, vicious as hell in a fight, didn't turn an eyelash when it looked like it was going to shitsville, just buckled down with everyone else.  But you might get prepared for a few 'extras' on whatever tab they present; they really DID manage a few 'specials' along the way.  Have a feeling it wouldn't have turned out nearly so well if they hadn't."</p><p>Somehow EJ Moore found herself being sent on solo missions for the next several weeks, the Handlers finding no enthusiasm for her inclusion with any of the teams.  In fact, the team leaders were adamant about that, much to the expressed consternation of those in charge of assigning the missions and the auxillary personnel.</p><p>Oh well, there were other female operatives, ones the team leaders didn't balk at, and for now, the higher ups were willing to let that odd resistance stand.  That might not always be the case, depending on availability, but for now anyway.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Humor Is Darkest Before The Dawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was to have been one of those 'walk in the park' jobs, not that many of those turned to be anything of the sort.  Actor, in fact, had waxed positively lyrical about their destination, particularly what he called 'Le vieil Annecy'.  "The old town, you see, and quite picturesque!  Lovely houses of the Piedmontese style, delightful little museums, and so much more!  I have spent many delightful hours there in prior years.  Though I doubt you will get the full benefit, Goniff.  It is hardly your sort of place."</p><p>The pickpocked had barely been listening, figuring it was all just more of Actor's enthusing about things the con man seemed to think only HE was knowledgeable or sophisticated enough to comprehend.  Still, Goniff knew when he was being insulted, and it didn't seem right to just ignore the jab, even if he wasn't particularly concerned about it, considering the source.  His reply was accompanied by a challenging look.  "Think it's all too 'igh-brow for me, Actor?  Not likely I can appreciate any of those things you're remembering it 'as?"</p><p>The Italian had smiled a little vindictively.  He'd been snipped at by the Cockney far too frequently in the past couple of days, at least in HIS opinion, and he was ready to get a little of his own back.</p><p>"Actually, yes.  But I was thinking more of the airplane trip, and then of the river and the canals.  We will need to make part of the journey itself on the Thiou river, I am quite sure, and possibly will utilize one or two of the canals once inside the perimeter."  </p><p>That wasn't necessarily the case, except for the airplane, of course, but it was pleasurable to prod the pickpocket on one of his most vulnerable issues.</p><p>Goniff groaned, "MORE water!  I'm getting to think the w'ole ruddy world is made up of water!  Ei, Lieutenant, 'ow about we turn this one down, wait for the next go around?  Maybe someplace we can drive to?  Maybe something up Edinburgh way we could tend to instead?"</p><p>Garrison shook his head, though smiling sympathetically.  "I'm afraid not, Goniff.  We drew this one, and it's not a card game where we can discard what we don't like. Just remember to put in a few of those motion-sickness herbs Meghada makes up for you and you'll be fine."</p><p>That got a look, skepticism mixed with resignation.  "Says you.  Keep waiting for the time they stop working.  She says that 'appens sometimes, that she might 'ave to come up with something else.  I know she will, but there's no way of knowing before it DOES 'appen.  Not much looking forward to that, you know, the inbetween time."</p><p>A loud snort from Casino prefaced his hearty "hell, neither are we!  Our luck, we'll be in the middle of the ocean when it happens, though!"</p><p>"Now, Pappy.  Our luck's been running pretty good for awhile now.  Maybe it'll hold out awhile longer, at least long enough to get back before those packets stop working," Chief offered, hoping saying it out loud would make it so.  As miserable as Goniff was when in the throes of a bout of motion-sickness, those around him weren't all that happy either.</p><p> </p><p>Luckily, the herb packets continued to do their job, for which everyone was grateful.  But their luck hadn't held out, not even for long enough to get the job completed and make their exit.  That is, if there even WAS a job in the first place, which was now increasingly doubtful.  Whether it was Major Turley, the new Handler, who'd led them astray on his own, or whether someone had fed HIM bad information, they didn't know, would probably never have the opportunity to find out.</p><p>In any case, the intel didn't match the circumstances they found when they finally reached that pastel yellow and pink house they'd been directed to.  One thing was apparent; whoever was living there now, if anyone truly was, was not a friend.  The fact that the code words had been just fine on both sides, the description of the man accurate enough, combined with the swift influx of more than a dozen heavily-armed and hard-fisted men in uniform pointed to the whole thing being an elaborate trap in the first place.</p><p>Garrison and his men had fought, but the odds were too heavy, and one by one they went down, all in far worse shape than when they'd arrived.</p><p>They'd awakened in a cold cell, their only comfort that they were together, no one missing that they would be left to wonder at their fate.  </p><p>The officer who deigned to outline their future left them with nothing to wonder about there either.  "You will be shot, of course.  In the morning.  Oh, not at dawn.  Yes, it is traditional, I know, but it is SO cold here early in the morning and I prefer to have my breakfast before undertaking any of my official responsibilities.  Nine o'clock seems a reasonable time for a firing squad, don't you think?"</p><p>"Not particularly, no," Garrison offered in reply, twisting his neck at a sharp angle to look the man in the face.</p><p>"Ah, now, Lieutenant Garrison.  Don't be that way.  Surely you and your men will enjoy one morning of sleeping in a little.  I understand your mornings usually start quite early, between the firing range and the obstacle course, and all the rest you have put in place for them," and the officer's smile was smugly satisfied at the rapid blinks that recognition brought to each man there.</p><p>{"Yeah, a trap, alright!  Guy knows the Warden's name, even some about our setup!  Shit, when our luck turns, it turns all the way to the bad!"} Casino swore to himself.  A fast glance around, and it was obvious no one disagreed.</p><p>Each man was shackled wrists to ankles, then to the metal rings set into the stone floor.  Not even Goniff's clever fingers had been able to make headway on those locks, and Casino's spring steel had no success at anything than almost dislocating his shoulder.  And, since they had been knocked unconscious before being jammed in here and chained, there had been no chance to bind any of their wounds.  It was only good luck that none of those wounds were severe enough that lack of care would have proved fatal, Garrison thought.  Of course, considering they were all to be shot in the morning, that luck was obviously not holding.</p><p>Looking around at the bedraggled and bruised men sharing that cramped cell in Annecy, Garrison wished more than anything that he could come up with a solution, for their sake if not for his own.  But their captors had left nothing to chance, obviously had no intention of giving them even the slightest opportunity to escape before the execution scheduled for the next morning.  There was no clumsy guard delivering food or water that they might take advantage of, since no food or water had been offered at any time.  No pleading of needing the latrine, since there was no one to plead TO.  </p><p>In short, after that interview with the man in charge, there had been no contact between the captives and their captors at all, though the feeling of being watched never ceased.  That limited even the natural inclination to talk to each other, left their communication mostly in the form of eye contact, though it was amazing just how much could be exchanged that way.  Support, brotherhood, concern, regret, and quite a bit more, things they felt, had grown accustomed to sharing by such non-verbal means as well as others.  And, in the morning, they would share one more thing, one final thing - death.</p><p>Though Goniff had opened his mouth to say one thing.  "Well, looks like you're right, Actor.  I'm not appreciating this place any more than you said I would.  Not at ALL my sort of place, WAY too 'igh-brow for me!  You just always gotta be right, don't you?" came out in a complaining voice.  </p><p>It caught them all offguard, enough Chief gave a quick bark of a laugh, the rest following suit.  And if the humor was of the very darkest kind, anything else could hardly be expected.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Is 'Crazy' A Good Leadership Trait?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robbie McKenna cursed at the unpleasant and unexpected news her contact had just delivered.  Her job was finished here in Annecy, and she was getting her things together to leave when Michel arrived in such a hurry.  </p><p>By the time he'd told her everything, the hour was growing late.  She was already going to have to rush to meet the other three female Allied agents currently in the city.  They each had their own assignments, related but not the same; had arrived individually, but would be using the same exit plan, transport waiting in a town not twenty miles away.  An exit plan she now wondered whether they would make at all.  </p><p>The wise, the prudent thing would BE for them to hurry, get out before luck turned against them.  But now, hearing of the five men being held captive, due to face a firing squad the next day, that made her hesitate, then quickly ask her contact to obtain as much else in the way of information as he could.</p><p>In the meantime, she did what was probably not overly wise, but what she felt was necessary - brief the other three agents in Annecy - Diane Leeds, Marina Duvalle, and EJ Moore - and see whether some rescue of Garrison and his team might be attempted.  Yes, the descriptions had been clear enough; there was no doubt who those prisoners were.</p><p>That there would be a serious discussion, McKenna did not doubt; this was a most serious situation, after all.  That there would perhaps be disagreement over how a rescue might be arranged; yes, that was expected as well.  What she really HADN'T expected was the immediate scorn and outright refusal she received from EJ at the entire idea.</p><p>"We weren't assigned to whatever job they're on.  We had our own jobs, and we did them, WITHOUT being caught!  Garrison and his men?  They're one of the hotshot Special Forces teams, aren't they?!  Why should we risk our necks pulling them out of the mess they've gotten themselves into?  They're not our responsibility.  We aren't part of their team, are we?  No, we head for the exit, now, while we can still make it!"</p><p>Marina was as startled as the rest, but gave a questioning look toward her own partner.  Oh, they'd not partnered on this particular job in Annecy, except in a detached way, but on many jobs they partnered; in addition, they shared a flat, a budding library and music collection; and in life itself, they considered themselves partners.  Heck, they were even considering getting a cat!   </p><p>Marina was firmly in favor of a rescue attempt, if they could come up with a decent plan, but she ruefully admitted Diane was the more cautious, the more prudent of the two.  Listening to, taking Diane's thoughts on a subject into serious account, that had saved Marina on more than one occasion when her first impulses might have led them into dangerous waters.</p><p>In fact, it was Marina who'd allowed herself to be manipulated into taking on that special project for two newcomers to HQ; Diane had a reservation or two, but rather than let Marina team up with someone else, she'd gone along.</p><p>That had led to a very uncomfortable experience with Garrison and his men.  They'd been called on the carpet by Major Richards for their involvement, and for awhile, wondered if they'd be allowed to continue their work at all.  Jennings and Sawyer, the two ambitious newcomers, had not!</p><p>The relief they'd felt when Richards had limited his actions to that firm reprimand was enhanced when he assured them that no action would be taken by their intended victims - Garrison and his men - OR by the contract agent they knew as the Dragon, Meghada O'Donnell.  Especially the latter, since they knew her, had worked with her, and knew exactly how dangerous she could be.  They still remembered that little 'discussion' at the pub in Brandonshire; no, the Dragon had NOT been happy with them, not in the least!  </p><p>Marina remembered her words quite clearly.  *"Ladies, I'm shocked, appalled even.  It seems you've been setting snares on my home ground, hunting on my turf.  Do I REALLY have to post 'No Trespassing' signs around my territory?  Perhaps place my brand on those I have a care for?  Maybe a small dragon in the center of their foreheads?  I wouldn't have thought that necessary, not for two such intelligent women as yourselves."*</p><p>She had smiled slightly, that smile involving only her lips, her cold eyes totally focused on the two looking up at her with total horror.</p><p>*"Now, just what should the signs say, hmmm?  'Trespassers Will Be Shot'?  That seems a little too quick and neat, don't you think, for such a serious offense?  Surely we can do better than that.  Oh, just what would be appropriate??  Perhaps we should discuss that in private, hmm??  Come along now; let's do just that!"*</p><p>After that, Marina and Diane had made it a point to stay away from Garrison and his crew, as well as the O'Donnell woman, no matter Richards' reassurances, just out of an excess of caution.</p><p>Marina shuddered to think of the Dragon's reaction to the news that the men had died at the hands of the enemy - that a rescue might have been possible by four Allied operatives already on the scene, but that such a rescue had not even been attempted.  Especially if EJ offered the excuses THEY'D just been given.  {"That we weren't assigned to the team for whatever job they were on?  That any trouble they're in just isn't our concern?  Oh, boy!"}</p><p>Diane was thinking much the same, remembering all of that.  {"And for all the trouble we caused, or at least, TRIED to cause, we probably owe them some repayment.  Something like this would be repayment plus interest, of course.  But is any of that relevant to the situation now?"} Diane considered, then firmed her lips.  {"No, not really.  So we WEREN'T assigned to Garrison's team for this job - so what?  We're on the same side; that puts us ALL on the same 'team', if you want to look at it in a broad scope!"}</p><p>Diane nodded to Marina, then faced McKenna.  "I say we give it a try.  Robbie, what do you know?  Do you have something in mind?"</p><p>"Maybe.  Michel is getting as much information as he can.  I'll retrieve that, talk with him about what resources he has we might use.  Marina, Diane, see if you can get close to that holding cell; you'll have a different outlook than Michel.  Learn everything you can, but do NOT get caught!  We'll meet back here in two hours."</p><p>EJ spat out her opinion harshly.  "You're crazy, all three of you!  Especially you, McKenna!  Who put you in charge, elected you the leader?  I've never heard 'crazy' was part of that job description.  Well, I'm not going along; I'm out of here!  You go commit suicide if you want to, but not ME!"</p><p>And as quickly as that, three of the four were in accord.  They weren't going to commit suicide if they could help it, but if a plan could be put together, one with a reasonable chance of success, they were going to try and get those men free.  </p><p>It was, at its essence, quite simple.  They were fighting a war, Garrison and his men were fighting on their side, were indeed valiant warriors for their side.  Quite simply - it was the right thing to do.  And if it cost them their lives, well, they were going to die sometime.  For Marina and Diane, to die together, in such a good cause, perhaps it was the most, perhaps even more than they could hope for.  They'd each dreaded going out alone, seeing the other head out on their own, with one not returning.  Knowing they might never even know their partner's ultimate fate was one of their greatest fears.</p><p>EJ Moore shook her head in total disgust and disbelief as the others prepared to head out, then resolutely turned and headed out for the exit alone.</p><p>{"Idiots!  They're going to get themselves killed and for nothing!"}. </p><p>Not even one of the influential team leaders or teams, but Garrison and those misfits of his!  She wasn't that stupid!  She had plans, she had a future, and she wasn't going to throw it away on a bunch of cons, OR that lieutenant of theirs!  They'd taken on a lot of hard jobs, luck usually riding in their pocket, far more luck than they deserved, any of them.  So, this time their luck had turned against them.  That was NOT her problem.</p><p>Robbie McKenna looked after the departing agent and firmed her lips.  So what if her first instinct had been to put a bullet in the back of EJ's head?  She was a professional - she wasn't going to give in to heated emotion, to that impulsive temptation.  After all, technically at least, EJ was on their side, though it sure didn't seem like it at the moment!  </p><p>Besides, the sound would alert the enemy - and she would probably need all the bullets she had on her to make this work.  </p><p>Or maybe not, not if the con she had in mind worked.  Not that it had one chance in a hundred OF working, most likely, but still that faint glimmer of an idea she'd had, it seemed just crazy enough, impossible enough, to maybe work.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Marina Duvalle and Diane Leeds have appeared in other stories.  The story 'Practice To Deceive' told of their uncomfortable encounter with Garrison and his team.  They reappear in 'Major Johns and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Journey', and are referred to in 'And Time Shall Not Diminish'</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. When A Firing Squad Is Your Better Option</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The officer, Gruber by name, had been interrupted just as he started his breakfast, which had done nothing for his disposition.  Hearing that his morning's entertainment, that firing squad all set for 9 o'clock, was to be curtailed, possibly eliminated altogether, hadn't added to his pleasure.  </p><p>The dour faced woman standing across from him now was completely professional, immediately getting to the point of her visit.  Clearly this was not someone who engaged in idle chit chat or social pleasantries.  Briskly removing her gloves, she quickly explained her reason for interrupting him.  </p><p>He noted her fingernails were expertly manicured, if rather short, but painted black.  </p><p>{"Now where have I heard about a woman who . . .?"} and his blood chilled. </p><p>Putting that together with the oversized black-rimmed glasses she wore and the stern black skirted suit, he realized who was standing in front of him {"Dr. Schiller?  Here??  Oh, please no!"} even before she so impatiently introduced herself and the reason for her presence in his office.  His apprehension grew proportionately.  The woman, if she was indeed who he thought she was, was known for being humorless and having no patience to speak of.</p><p>"I am Doctor Anna Schiller.  You have captured enemy agents in your possession.  I will need to see them, see if they fit my needs.  I have transport outside.  Here is my authorization to take whoever I want for my important work for the Third Reich and the Führer."</p><p>He argued, at least initially, but to no avail. The cold-faced woman brooked no dispute and the papers she carried were quite explicit.  She had authorization to obtain by whatever needs necessary subjects for her experiments, and from what she had heard, the five men in his possession just might be acceptable.</p><p>Before long he gave in; well, his protests were more a formality than anything else anyway.  The signatures on those forms were recognizable enough - names of people he had no intention of annoying by holding his ground over such an insignificant matter.  Well, Dr. Anna Schiller was a name he'd heard a few times as well - an impressive if rather daunting individual from all accounts; certainly an individual it would be most unwise to cross.</p><p>Yes, he'd been instructed to see this Garrison and his men captured and put to death, but he had accomplished the first part, and this woman would take care of the second.  Well, eventually, once they'd served her purpose.  </p><p>And a most interesting purpose that was, if one he was more than pleased he'd not be serving!  At least he sincerely hoped not!  There had been just that hint in her cold eyes that told him she just might consider that alternative if he thwarted her now.</p><p>Her purpose?  Furthering of her oh-so-important experiments, a goodly number of different ones, it would seem.</p><p>Immuno-antibody response (though the subject had to first be given a good dose of whatever disease she was working on).  "I have many of the toxins in my laboratory, of course.  Diphtheria, smallpox, bubonic plague - various others."</p><p>A more effective treatment for gangrene, which while that would require a nice energetic case of gangrene to experiment on, that was no real problem, as she had asured him.  </p><p>"After all, with a sufficiently serious traumatic encounter and application of various toxic substances, that can be induced without any real effort and in a remarkably short period of time."</p><p>Therapy for explosive shock trauma, "obviously requiring a healthy dose of explosive damage to begin with, again something quite easy to provide."</p><p>She even mentioned vivisection to determine just what made a brain and various other organs work the way it did.  When she started to describe the process, he was glad he'd been interrupted before having taken more than a bite or two of his breakfast.  </p><p>No, none of that was something he was eager to undertake personally, and he quickly gave up any notion of keeping to his plan for those five men and a firing squad.  Hopefully she would look, see that they were suitable for her purposes, and go away without looking for any FURTHER subjects for her experiments.  In fact, he would do his best to encourage her in that direction.</p><p>He quickly escorted her to the cramped cell, unlocked the door at her impatient order, and waited while she gave them all a long studying inspection.  </p><p>It was quite a tableau, she was staring at the men, they were staring at her, Gruber keeping a close eye on everyone.</p><p>"You see, five quite different individuals.  That would be helpful, I would think," and he continued on in that vein as she drew closer to each man, taking a careful survey of each.  Soon she stopped him with an impatient gesture.</p><p>"Yes, yes, they will do nicely.  My transport is outside, my assistants waiting.  Please have them taken out and loaded.  One by one, mind you, with their bonds intact.  I would hate for them to try something foolish.  We are well-armed, of course, and quite competent with our weaponry; however, I've wasted enough time gathering research subjects to lose any now!  And I'll need the keys, of course.  Give them to my assistant outside once the men are loaded."</p><p>She turned and walked out as briskly as she'd entered Gruber's office not too long before, not looking back once.  The idea that her instructions would not be followed didn't seem to occur to her, and really, it hadn't occurred to Gruber either.</p><p>Gruber HAD taken some satisfaction in explaining the facts of the matter to that officer and his men, being brutally cheerful as to what awaited them.  Well, if he had to give up the entertainment promised by that firing squad, he felt justified in getting SOME pleasure out of the morning!</p><p>"Life is just full of surprises, is it not, Lieutenant Garrison?  Who ever would have thought that the firing squad I had planned for you would actually be the far more desirable option for you and your team?  Pity the choice really isn't up to you, isn't it?"</p><p>That laugh was chilling enough, the words even more so.  He was delighted to see that the combination was SO chilling, it was as if the men were frozen, unable to move with the horror of what he'd just told them.  They had seemed equally unable to take their gaze from the icy-eyed woman in that crisp black suit who'd so calmly stood there taking their measure, even now staring at the doorway she'd so recently vacated.  </p><p>That was understandable, of course.  A vulture would have had a more pleasant and benign expression than the one the woman had been wearing.  </p><p>And so it was, the men led out, one by one, still chained, but at least with the chains no longer bending them in half.  The guards followed the crisp motions of the uniformed woman standing at the side of the truck, securing them to the metal rails inside the transport so that freedom of motion was no more possible than it had been in that cell.</p><p>"You have been most cooperative.  I will see that my superiors are made aware of that, I promise you," Dr. Schiller assured him as she pulled those black gloves back into place, and with that, the imperious woman made her way to the side of the transport, climbed aboard, and they were gone.  </p><p>Gruber let out a sigh of relief.  Now he just had to decide whether to confide any of that to the one who'd ordered this operation in the first place.  But first, he needed a stiff drink, perhaps two.  He still wasn't sure he was up to breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, in the back of the transport, Garrison let out the breath he'd found himself involuntarily holding during that whole incredible con.  At first when he'd seen that cold dismissive stare, he thought he'd run into one of those rare 'doubles' it's said almost everyone has somewhere in the world.  At least until he'd seen that small scar at the woman's temple.  {"Just how likely would it be for a double to get slammed with a gun butt in just the same place, get just the same scar?!!"}</p><p>Casino was the first to break the silence.</p><p>"Shit, Warden!  What the hell is McKenna doing here?  Where'd she learn to pull a sweet con like that?  That's about as ballsy as anything I've seen you and Beautiful here pull off!  Just about made my blood run cold, all that guy was saying!  And the look on her face?!  Hell, she almost made a believer outta me even after I recognized her!"</p><p>"Did you see the one at the wheel?  That was Marina Duvalle, I'd swear it," Chief told them.</p><p>"And, if I am not mistaken, the one at the rear of the transport, that was her partner, Diane Leeds," Actor agreed.</p><p>"Don't much care WHY they're 'ere, just ruddy glad they ARE!  You know, Lieutenant, I'm getting a little tired of being stood up in front of firing squads.  I admit it didn't actually 'appen this time, but it came too close for my peace of mind.  Could we maybe not do that again anytime soon?"  The aggrieved look on Goniff's face matched the tone of his voice, was obviously sincere enough, but that look in his eyes, that faint twitch of his lips told a different story.  </p><p>Garrison gave his pickpocket a dry, if secretly grateful, look.  He could always count on Goniff to reduce his tension at least a little, even if the man managed it in some decidely odd ways sometimes.  Once he'd thought that was purely an accident, those comments and interjections and gestures he'd come to count on; he knew better now.</p><p>"I'll make a note of that, Goniff; see if we can't come up with something a little different for next time," he promised.  For a snappy retort, it fit the required bill; that he really, really hoped he could keep that promise, that was doubly true.  In fact, if it were up to him, there wouldn't BE a next time, but he knew the chances of that were nil.</p><p>"Yeah, Warden, the Limey's right for a change.  Let's lose the firing squad routine; it's getting way old.  We need to change things up a little.  Maybe go with boiling oil or that guillotine thing Actor was talking about last month - something fancy like that," Casino chimed in.</p><p>"Casino, shut up," came as a resounding chorus from the other four men, none of them really up to considering such a fate at the moment.  The firing squad had been enough, thank you very much!</p><p>The truck pulled into a bypass, slowed, then stopped once out of sight of the main road.  They heard a door slam and the rear panel was pulled open, and the woman who'd claimed them as her newest research subjects climbed in.</p><p>"Sorry to leave you chained like that for so long, guys.  Had to be sure no one was following before we stopped," Robbie McKenna apologized as she made quick use of the keys to get them free.  She tapped on the rear of the cab to signal Marina to start again, handed the first aid kit to Actor, then sat down on the side bench next to Garrison.</p><p>"So, I hope you have an exit plan or two tucked away, Lieutenant," she said, clearly handing the baton of leadership back to Garrison.  "Ours went black a few hours ago."</p><p>And, of course, being Garrison, he did, though with it now being an exit for eight instead of the five it was originally intended for.  </p><p>Hearing the whole story from McKenna, Garrison could only shake his head in wonder at how luck had come down on their side once again.  If McKenna hadn't been strong enough, determined enough, to overrule EJ Moore - if Leeds and Duvalle hadn't stepped up to the plate, following McKenna's lead - if McKenna hadn't been able to get the right resources from her local contact at such short notice {"I can understand the clothes, the truck and weapons, certainly the documents, but a manicurist??!"} and pull off that masterful con - he and the team would be dead by now.</p><p>There were issues to clear up, certainly - like who set that trap and why.  There probably was an issue or two involving EJ Moore, though Garrison thought they'd probably be told to stay out of that totally.  Certainly Casino's offer to strangle the woman, and Chief's equally-sincere offer for something slightly different but with the same outcome, could NOT be accepted.  Appreciated, yes - yearned for, possibly - fantasized about, but not accepted.  </p><p>And no, he wasn't entirely sure those offers had been made only in grimly morbid jest, and he had no intention of clarifying that, strictly for his own peace of mind.  It was disturbing enough that Goniff had made no outward signal of his intentions towards retribution.  {"At least if he had, I'd know what I needed to direct him away from!  Sometimes his mind DOES work in strange ways!"} Garrison admitted ruefully to himself.</p><p>And, in Garrison's mind, there were one or two other issues - issues involving Robbie McKenna and the Leeds/Duvalle duo.</p><p>But that would have to wait til they got back to London, to where he could have a heart-to-heart with Major Kevin Richards and perhaps a few others.</p><p>"Expect 'Gaida will 'ave a few things to say on matters too," Goniff said ruefully, trying to get comfortable, which considering the battering he'd gotten wasn't all that easy.  Well, none of them were having all that easy a time of it, even after Actor had done some hasty first aid.</p><p>"She's likely to be tempery as anything, at least about Moore.  Told me once, she just EXPECTS more of a female, even the ones who are Outlanders and not Clan; that they should just 'ave MORE than the blokes, w'at with not needing to deal with w'at she calls 'testosterone poisoning' - though she never did get around to saying just w'at that 'more' was.  Of course, she's likely to be tempery about whoever set us up too, but think she's going to take w'at Moore did, or didn't do, more personal-like.  Could get right nasty."  </p><p>The guys noted Goniff merely looked thoughtful at that idea, not disapproving or apprehensive.  {"Probably gonna see if he can talk her into letting him help with whatever scheme she comes up with,"} Chief thought.  Well, he and Goniff were tight; he could usually figure out at least part of what the pickpocket was thinking.  Sometimes he was good with that; sometimes it was more than a little uncomfortable.</p><p>Garrison thought about that betrayal, the firing squad, the unexpected rescue by three women who decided to take a huge gamble, and the other woman who'd cut and run.  Hopefully the O'Donnell woman, if she DID get nasty, would be somewhat discreet about it, at least enough to keep Goniff clear of any fallout.</p><p>"That's alright, Goniff.  I'm a bit tempery about it all myself.  Maybe Meghada is rubbing off on me more than I realized," he admitted.</p><p>Goniff gave him a weary, if knowing, grin.  "Don't worry, Lieutenant.  That's not necessarily a bad thing, you know."</p><p>More and more, Garrison was starting to agree on that point, and frankly, it wasn't even worrying him all that much anymore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Just What Makes A Leader?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The office was very crowded - Garrison and his four men, Robbie McKenna, Diane Leeds, and Marina Duvalle - in addition, of course, to Major Kevin Richards, whose office it was. </p><p>"No.  Stop.  Start over, from the beginning.  And, one at a time, if you don't mind!"  Richards said with admirable patience, considering.  Garrison had quieted his men a few times, McKenna had done the same with her two companions, but still it kept getting out of hand as emotions soared.  Well, it was an emotional topic, he could hardly dispute that.</p><p>It was bad enough that the story was {"actually stories, at least two or more!"} that complicated, but when he had several people trying to tell him all the details, all at once, he realized he really shouldn't have skipped coffee that morning.</p><p>When the door opened to the welcome sight of Private Ames bearing a large tray containing two steaming coffee pots, several cups AND hot rolls, he promised himself to give the young man a commendation {"maybe a promotion as well if that coffee is the real thing and the rolls are somewhat fresh!"}</p><p>Taking a sip of the hot coffee, taking a bite from one of the rolls, now realizing he DID need to make a mental note about that promotion, he nodded to Garrison.  </p><p>"You first, Lieutenant Garrison.  It seems your mission was the start of this whole situation and a proper place to begin."</p><p>Garrison related the events, first of their mission as assigned by Major Turley, then their capture in what was obviously a well organized and pre-planned trap, their intended fate, and the superb con that got them freed and on their way home.  </p><p>Richards heard him out, then turned to Robbie McKenna, Diane Leeds and Marina Duvalle.</p><p>"Very well.  Now, ladies.  How did you get involved?  And how did you come up with that particular method of rescue?" Richards prompted, reaching for the coffee pot one more time.  </p><p>And a growing look of puzzlement on Richards' face matched his next words after hearing what the three had to say.  Well, McKenna mostly, the other two seeming to defer to her automatically in the telling.</p><p>"Dr. Anna Schiller.  Yes, I've heard of her, but I am surprised you have.  Certainly I am surprised that you heard enough, Miss McKenna, to manage an impersonation."</p><p>Actor broke in, "not just AN impersonation, Major.  A masterful one, all the way from the right attitude and mannerisms, the appropriate style of clothing, right down to those polished black fingernails that seem to be part of the doctor's reputation!"</p><p>"Indeed," Richard nodded, glancing at McKenna's hands which still bore those shiny black nails, "so it would seem.  Well, Miss McKenna?"</p><p>"That was a bit of luck, actually, picking that up particularly, though I do try to keep up with the various jobs, who's who in the scheme of things.  I'm a bit of a sponge in that way.  Well, you never know who or what you may run into, what information might be useful on a job.  When I started field work, it seemed like it would give me an extra edge, the more I know, I mean - especially working solo.  Team Leaders, some of them anyway, are willing to share stories, non-classified information with the agents who've worked with them successfully, if they know you're interested.  One of them had heard quite an earful about Dr. Schiller during a mission awhile back; while his description, of her, her work, was enough to give you nightmares, it was also good enough for me to copy the most relevant parts.  She certainly seemed to be the sort of person you didn't argue with, didn't try to stand firm against, not as long as she is so highly thought of in Berlin.  It seemed our best option, and Michel said Gruber, the man in charge, liked to play things safe, didn't lean toward taking unnecessary risks where his personal safety was concerned.  </p><p>"I really lucked out with Michel, my contact in Annecy.  He even knew a friendly and discreet manicurist who was amenable to being woke up in the middle of the night to do a rush job.  She didn't have black fingernail polish - it's hardly the fashion - but her daughter did have a tin of artist's paints that included one tub of black she used, and a couple of shiny coats of clear nail polish on top did the job well enough.  It seemed that would be the thing most people would remember about Dr. Schiller's physical appearance, those nails.</p><p>"Diane stole the clothes we'd need, altered them so they'd fit as if they were truly ours.  Marina hotwired the transport, Michel knew the right forms, had blanks from one of the jobs the Underground had pulled.  The signatures, Marina handled those as well.  Lieutenant Garrison and his men were quick to recognize me, of course, but were the total professionals - showed no sign, so Gruber didn't catch on.  They played their part perfectly; it wouldn't have worked at all if they hadn't.  And it was Lieutenant Garrison who came up with an alternate exit plan.  As I said, it was totally a joint effort, Major."</p><p>"Hmmmm.  I see.  Speaking of exit plans, as I understand it, you three were supposed to be exiting along the same route as EJ Moore.  How was it that she made that exit, alone?  Were you not able to contact her, have her assist with your efforts?"   </p><p>Since he was the Handler on the Annecy project - the one the four women had been involved with, although not Garrison's mission - he was more than a little curious about that.  Moore's report had been quite uninformative; remembering that debriefing, he certainly would never have anticipated anything like what he was hearing now.  Somehow, perhaps due to a wandering mind, he'd rather gotten the impression that each woman had, due to necessary last minute adjustments in their own portion of the job, left Annecy alone.  Moore had waited at the exit for as long as feasible, but the other three had simply not arrived at the exit point in time to accompany Moore back to England.  There had been no mention of Garrison or his men in that debriefing either.  Odd.</p><p>The three women exchanged an uncomfortable glance.  None of them had mentioned Moore's actions to Richards, though Garrison and his men knew, of course.  What to say, how much to say, exactly HOW to say it - that was the question.</p><p>"Ladies?" Richards prompted patiently.</p><p>Casino growled.  He and the others had sat quietly through the debriefing, at least after Richards insisted that it be 'one at a time', except for that one interjection by their con man, but now he chimed in.  </p><p>"She bailed, that's what happened - didn't want any part of their 'efforts', Major.  If it was up to HER, we'd be dead.  Hell, if that job had taken four of them instead of just the three, McKenna, Leeds and Duvalle would likely be dead too!"</p><p>The mutterings from the other men on Garrison's team showed how highly they thought of that action.  Richards thought he understood the meaning of that Cockney cant spewing sotto voce from Garrison's pickpocket, but thought it advisable to pretend otherwise.  It really HAD been pretty ripe!  </p><p>Richards raised a questioning brow at McKenna and the others.</p><p>"That is an accurate assessment?" he asked politely.</p><p>A joint "yes, sir" was his answer, though there was certainly no joy in their voices or on their faces at that admission.  </p><p>He sighed, "Lieutenant Garrison, I believe you and your men are free to go.  Go get cleaned up, take care of yourselves, get back to your base of operations.  Do NOT contact or allow any contact between any of you and EJ Moore.  I will be in touch later, Lieutenant.  </p><p>"Now, ladies, I want to hear the WHOLE story, including regarding Miss Moore and how, with what reasoning, she declined to join your little masquerade."</p><p>Garrison gave one last nod of thanks to McKenna, Leeds and Duvalle, saluted Richards one last time, and ushered his men out.  They needed medical attention, food, a stiff drink, and some solid rest.  Garrison hurried them along, just to be safe, wanting them gone and on their way before anything else could interfere.</p><p>*<br/>
Richards ran a frustrated hand through his hair.  </p><p>"Major Turley appears to be quite innocent of any wrongdoing or malice, Lieutenant, at least as far as I can determine.  He simply did his job, right down the line.  The file appeared in his In-Box, marked 'Urgent', with your team being the one referenced as most suitable.  All quite the usual.  No, he didn't recognize the authorizing name on the referral slip, but he IS quite new with us, after all.  I doubt he recognizes many of the names on the files he receives.  Unfortunately no one ELSE seems to recognize the name either.  Even the steno's initials appear to be fraudulent."</p><p>Garrison was seething.  "So, the forms were the right forms; the procedure was the correct procedure for getting a job in the works, a certain team assigned to that job; but no one can figure out who's responsible?  Doesn't that make you just a little uneasy, Major?"  </p><p>In fact, it sounded remarkably like the con McKenna had pulled off.  Obviously someone of equal ability had managed quite a coup here at HQ London.  That was NOT a pleasant thought!</p><p>"You have no idea, Lieutenant!!  Or maybe you do.  Yes, of course you do!  It was genius, actually - a true masterstroke, even if it was unsuccessful in what I assume was its primary goal of eliminating you and your team.  But even considering that, they've done significant damage, now and for the foreseeable future.  Just knowing we are going to have to take additional steps to verify what shows up on our desk, the jobs put in place; implement additional security measures?  We don't have the time or personnel for that, and yet, we must MAKE time, find the staffing!  This added complication will not aid in our overall fighting of this blasted war!</p><p>"However, on another note - the initiative and ingenuity shown by your rescuers was most commendable, and I have seen that our appreciation was properly expressed to Leeds and Duvalle, as well as to McKenna, of course.</p><p>"But as far as McKenna is concerned, I found several of your comments, as well as Actor's opinion, most interesting.  You might just have presented me with the solution to a problem I'm trying to deal with.  Tell me, what do you think about . . ."</p><p>*<br/>
Waiting in his office for the first of those being summoned to appear, Major Richards considered the situation once again.</p><p>Vince Caulder's group was needing a new team leader, or so it would appear after the med report on Caulder's injuries.  It might be temporary, it might not be, but for now someone needed to run the team.  The SIC, Jeffers, had gone down in the same ambush that had led to Caulder's condition, and the remaining four men were just too valuable to leave idle.  There was always the option of doling them out to other teams to fill an empty slot, and yet no other team had a vacancy at the moment.  </p><p>Besides, splitting the team up was a bad idea for various reasons.  Major Kevin Richards, more than most, understood the bonds that were formed, bonds that needed to be maintained.  Those men had already suffered enough trauma; there was no need to add to it if it was truly not necessary.  And, of course, having one less team in the rotation, that was NOT good news for the war effort.  Mitch Brant could move to the SIC position, but had made it clear he wanted no part of the point position.</p><p>Stifling a sigh, the major focused on the folders in front of him.   Four files - one who had volunteered for the job, although with two recommendations; three who hadn't volunteered, but whose names had been put forward by someone else.  </p><p>All four were qualified based on their files, their records.  Oh, none of them were 100% on the check-off sheet he used to evaluate the potential leaders.  Each had one or more areas where he would have preferred to see something a bit other than what was there.  Well, he'd never had it otherwise, of course; there WAS no perfect person for the role, not on paper anyway.  And frankly, he wasn't sure a generic check-off sheet of so-called leadership traits was all that wonderful of a way to make such determinations in the first place, other than as a way to eliminate the obviously unsuited.</p><p>Well, it HAD been a start anyway.  There had been several other recommendations for the position, though some he had known right away wouldn't work; maybe with some teams, but not with this particular one.  He'd come to realize it was all well and good to prepare a list of 'leadership qualities', but in truth, the particular qualities a leader would need depended a great deal on the makeup of those he was to lead.  Craig Garrison was a good example, him and his 'Gorillas'; in fact, Richards admitted to himself that it was that team in particular that had led to his newfound knowledge about such things.  It had been much the same with Vince Caulder and his crew - those were rough men, efficient, quite capable, but not the finger sandwich and tea cake sort a couple of the potential leaders would prefer, nor were they the polished soldiers others might expect.  Oh, Caulder's men were quite good at their job, but military discipline wasn't their strong suit, any more than was social restraint.  Caulder hadn't seemed to have trouble with that, had found ways to make it all work.  Some officers wouldn't be willing or perhaps capable of that.</p><p>For example, there was that Group Captain Crittendon who had been recommended by someone or other.  Richards had met Crittendon a few times, and a more staunch defender of the 'strict military way' he'd never encountered. {"Even puts me to shame, back at my most earnestly pig-headed moments!  And all that prattling on about geraniums, for some reason!  No, Crittendon is NOT a possibility!"}. </p><p>Besides, remembering their last meeting, he'd be surprised if the man could safely find his way to Richards' office without a guide dog.  {"Turning him loose on the Continent, responsible for a mission, responsible for a team?  I shudder to think!  Someone must be quite desperate to get him out of THEIR hair to recommend him for something THIS inappropriate!"}</p><p>One of those whose files he had on his desk, he dismissed out of hand, at least for Caulder's position, although he knew he would have to do the interview and the turn-down in person since, unfortunately, that person was the one who had volunteered for the job.  </p><p>He wasn't looking forward to that - that or the possible blowback he might get from the applicant or the applicant's supporters.  Still, EJ Moore had no business being a team leader.  Actually, he didn't think she had any business being in the Specials to begin with.  In fact, he intended to use this interview to do one last careful evaluation before he officially decided whether to dismiss EJ from even that Alternate List of specialists used to fill out a team with a temporary need, perhaps even the solo rotation.  If he felt the same by that time as he did now, she'd find herself outside the Specials entirely.  He had the authority to do just that, though he'd hear about it most sharply, of course.  Still, he'd heard too much, read between the lines of various reports, hers and others.  Her focus seemed to be just a trifle too narrow, in his estimation, and her ambitions, or at least her methods of attempting to satisfy those ambitions, more than questionable.</p><p>It got very loud, that interview.  Squinting his eyes against his incipent pounding headache, Richards knew he'd been right to leave EJ Moore's interview to the last.  If he'd had that unpleasantness to deal with at the very beginning, who knows whether he'd have had the wherewithall to deal with the other interviews at all, at least in the same day.  </p><p>He imagined even those in the other nearby offices had heard part of that impassioned response to the rejection; if they hadn't, they'd surely heard the violent slamming of his office door, the cascading glass from the shattered panel, and the very loud venom EJ had issued all the way down the hall.  He knew he would have to answer the three inquiring phone messages he'd already gotten about all the noise, but his Aide, Private Ames, had sidestepped those for him for now, explaining "the major is in conference and cannot be interrrupted, sir."  Private Ames really was a treasure, even though he looked a little young and gawky for the job.  Yes, a promotion was definitely in the works! </p><p>Still, those parting words still rang in his ears; well, with the volume of their delivery, that was understandable. </p><p>"SOMETIMES A WOMAN JUST CAN'T GET A BREAK!  And I don't know who else you are thinking of for that job, but even without knowing, I can tell you I'm more qualified than ANY of them!  I'll tell you one thing, MAJOR!, you've not heard the last of me, I PROMISE you that!"</p><p>{"No, I doubt I have.  Like a bad penny, she's bound to show up again, probably at just the wrong moment."}</p><p>The earlier three interviews had gone much better.  </p><p>Collins admitted he'd really wasn't looking to leave his own position as SIC of Reynolds' team, not yet anyway.  He was happy where he was, Reynolds didn't want to lose him, and while he was grateful for the consideration, was just as grateful his declining was accepted in the spirit it was intended.  The brief interview ended with both parties being well-pleased at the outcome.</p><p>Murphy was willing, even eager for the position, but during the interview Richards had a hunch, one that told him it wouldn't be as good a fit as it had looked on paper.  A little judicious questioning, and during the conversation, it came out that Murphy had a history with two of the guys on Caulder's team.  In fact, it seemed he was already thinking of shifting things around, maybe getting rid of the two men.  However, as Richards was well aware, the four remaining men were staunch supporters of each other, and since Richards thought the team had already suffered enough turmoil, he though disrupting the team that way wasn't something that should be jumped on quite that fast.  </p><p>He'd compromised, offered Murphy the alternate opportunity to apply for the open SIC position for Carlson's Special Ops team.  That position had been vacant for some time and Carlson has asked to try someone outside the usual SO lineup.  That just might work, and Murphy liked the idea, so that was done.</p><p>Robbie McKenna had been up next. </p><p>She was startled, though flattered, that she'd been recommended for the post, though not visibly optimistic throughout the interview.  </p><p>{"I imagine she thinks this is a formality, that I am not seriously considering her, but had to interview her because of her being recommended.  Well, I just told her she had been recommended, but really - four recommendations from other team leaders, including Caulder himself, who she's worked with in the past, plus several thumbs-up by individual operatives - that is more than impressive."}</p><p>At the end of the interview, being given the green light to join up with Caulder's group, to take on the temporary leadership had led to a brief silence, then a cautious assent.  </p><p>"And when Caulder comes back?" she asked before leaving.  "I go back to the Alternate's list?  Back to solo rotation?"</p><p>Kevin Richards gave her a professional smile, "we'll consider that when the time comes, Specialist McKenna.  For now, just do the job.  We are all depending on you, including Caulder."  Somehow, he thought that time just might not come, that K Team had just acquired a new team member in one capacity or another.</p><p>*<br/>
Richards thought she truly MIGHT be a good fit for Caulder's men, certainly worth trying, as he now discussed with one of the team leaders who'd recommended McKenna for the job in the first place, all with Vince Caulder's blessing.</p><p>"So, three positive outcomes.  No, I'll rephrase that.  FOUR positive outcomes, since no matter how unpleasant dealing with EJ Moore might have been during that meeting, making the decision, having her out of rotation in any position still has to be considered a positive, don't you think, Lieutenant?" Richards commented over a drink and dinner at his club.</p><p>"I'd be happier to have her out of the country, Major.  Sooner or later she's going to kill someone or get someone killed, or make another 'professional, pragmatic decison' that LETS someone get killed because she had 'other priorities'.  Or because they were in the way of her ambitions.  Or just out of spite.  I can't see her just going away quietly, no matter how much I'd prefer that," Craig Garrison said, grim look on his face.</p><p>Richards sighed.  "I cannot disagree.  However, her 'going away quietly', that is not something I can arrange, Lieutenant Garrison, nor you," giving Garrison a very stern look.  With the friends Garrison had, he felt it best to give that warning.  Some of those friends were less measured in their tendencies than he was, and EJ's decision to not get involved in the team's rescue because she had other priorities, as well as having her own personal ax to grind - well, it had not been favorably received in many quarters.  Add that to Garrison's tale of what he saw as an attempt to kill Actor, then Goniff, to further her ambitions - well, the stern warning really DID seem appropriate.</p><p> </p><p>A month later:</p><p>"How is Caulder's group doing?  Is the new SIC and temporary team leader working out?  I know it was an adjustment; Jeffers was there from the start, and Vince was in charge for a long time," Actor asked as he reached for his pipe.</p><p>Vince Caulder's bad hit that last job out turned out to be worse than anyone had anticipated.  He'd live, but he'd not be leading his team again.   No, he wasn't happy to be a desk jockey now, but more than happy to be alive and in a position to do some sort of serious work, considering the alternatives.</p><p>"Not bad.  Though it's not 'SIC and temporary team leader' anymore.  It's official; Mitch is the SIC on a permanent basis; Robbie McKenna IS the team leader.  The team is working well under her leadership; the missions getting about the same success rate, no losses in manpower.  I talked to Vince a few days ago; he's kept in contact with the guys and he says they're happy with McKenna and how things are going, and so is he.  </p><p>"The only complaint was that they missed Caulder, of course, AND those filthy stories of his livening things up during the rough times, but that was just about all.  McKenna doesn't seem to be inclined toward lewd and highly improbable tales of debauchery, and the guys are taking awhile to get used to the idea of aphorisms and limmericks being a viable substitute, but they're gradually buying in.  They say Vince didn't join in with their drinking or their womanizing either, so they don't feel it so much that McKenna isn't inclined to do so.  Though they say she can handle her liquor just fine, and if she puts her mind to it, she can win just about any poker game she sits down to.  They're convinced she cheats, and she admits it freely but won't tell them how.  Something I believe she learned from all of YOU??"</p><p>That got a knowing grin from the men.  </p><p>"Guilty as charged.  We thought it might make the transition a bit easier.  Though who, might I ask, suggested THAT little alternative to McKenna, the aphorisms and such?" Actor asked, as if he didn't already know.</p><p>"Yes, well, maybe I did.  If it went over with you guys, I figured Caulder's guys might be okay with it too," Garrison admitted.</p><p>Casino laughed.  "Yeah, well, from what they were saying at Silk's the other night, they're just fine with it.  Says that team leader of theirs can come up with the damnedest things sometimes, but usually hits the nail right on the head.  They've even learned to roll with her spouting poetry sometimes.  </p><p>"Oh, and Mitch says they're thinking of giving themselves a name, like us, ya know?  It was Caulder's idea, after he saw how good it was going, and the guys thought it was a real hoot.  They never had with him, picked out a name, I mean.  Had a couple of ideas but couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't upset the clerks at having to type it, OR give them stockade time.  But now, it seemed like the right time.  So, instead of just being K Team, they're starting to call themselves 'Robbie's Bad Boys'.  </p><p>"And how does McKenna feel about that?" Garrison asked.  He'd been flattered when his guys became 'Garrison's Gorillas' and seeming to like the notion.  He wasn't sure how universal that concept might be, though.</p><p>"She thinks it's a real hoot too!  Was a little uneasy, maybe, not wanting to take anything away from Caulder, but now it's for sure he won't be coming back - is sticking to that desk job where two canes won't slow him down at getting the job done.  So the job's hers for keeps - well, as much as anything in this war is for keeps - and that it's what the guys want, that makes it good with her.  So 'Robbie's Bad Boys' they are, and knowing those guys, they'll live up to the name!"</p><p>And so it was.  Robbie McKenna led 'Robbie's Bad Boys' for the remainder of the war, and no one was in any doubt of just how apt that name really was.  And if there were those who exclaimed at a woman leading a field team, especially that one, wondered how on earth it would work, the guys on the team would just give a wry grin and tell them the truth.</p><p>"We don't think about it all that much.  I mean, she's a woman, alright, but that's not the important part, not to us.  She's Robbie and she does a damned fine job for us.  We got a lucky break when Richards put her in charge, right enough."</p><p>Of course, Robbie McKenna always claimed it was SHE who got the lucky break.</p><p>Maybe, no, most emphatically, they were ALL right.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Finally!  A Break!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And as for EJ Moore?  </p><p>She had fumed silently - well, once she'd calmed down enough to control her rage; making a public spectacle wouldn't be smart, certainly wouldn't impress anyone favorably.</p><p>That is, she'd fumed silently until she reached her flat, then it wasn't in the least silent.  It was loud, furious and profane as she rehashed the entire baffling story of her mistreatment at the hands of all those Know-Nothings!  </p><p>Sullenly nursing a shot glass of whiskey, looking back over the events of the past few months, it seemed she really COULDN'T get a break.  You'd think with all her plans and abilities and determined motivation, a good break would have come along every once in a while.  But no.  </p><p>She should BE a team leader by now, but something always stood in her way!  She did her best to overcome the obstacles, but no one was willing to cooperate!  Damn them, damn all of them!</p><p>She'd even been willing to take on the least desirable team in the joint endeavor, Garrison's misfits, hadn't she?  At least early on.  Now, they could burn in hell before she'd do them the honor!</p><p>That accident should have taken their con man out easily, left the SIC position for her to step into, at least on that job.  She'd thought once Garrison saw how perfectly she handled the job, he would consider keeping her on.  Well, he would hardly give the job to one of those other cons, now would he?  </p><p>But Actor had moved too fast, not avoiding the trap, but avoiding serious damage.  And Garrison hadn't seemed to feel he needed even a temporary SIC while the Italian was out of commission.</p><p>So she'd tried a different approach, getting Garrison involved enough on a personal level - sexually, romantically, whatever it took! - that he'd help get her name on the right desks.  </p><p>Well, if nothing else, it was satisfying teaching that annoying little Cockney a lesson he wouldn't forget about interferring with her plans!  That stupid clueless man had not only refused to stop getting in her way, stop interferring in her seduction of the team leader, but then, SOMEHOW, managed to survive that fall that really should have left him with a broken neck or broken back at the least!  Maybe she'd not cut the rope through quite enough, though she hadn't had a lot of time, of course.  </p><p>How he'd survived that fall she'd never know, and as much as he slowed them down afterwards, she STILL couldn't believe Garrison didn't just dump him somewhere and head for the exit with the rest of the team!  How inefficient could you get?!  If SHE'd been in charge, it would have been quite different, that's for sure!  Cutting your losses was just part of what a leader should understand, but not Garrison, it would seem!</p><p>And Garrison?  Not only did he NOT let himself be seduced, unlike just about all the other men she'd played that way, he'd been giving her the fish eye ever since.  Sometimes she thought he might even have been carrying stories to the other leaders, considering how they'd pulled back, tried to find ways for her NOT to be sent out with them.  </p><p>Then, enlisting Colonel Bellson went all wrong, with that young madman Douglas Whatever-the-hell-his-name-is making that scene in Richards' office.  If the brat was scared, him OR that sister of his, they could have just said 'no', not gone all woo-woo like that!  </p><p>And Bellson?  He'd stayed angry on her behalf for less than an hour, the rat, then started looking at her funny, not wanting to get close, made all kinds of excuses for not going back to her flat.  Bellson started talking about having nightmares of those weird white eyes and creepy voice the little snirp had used to get out of going on that mission. He got unreliable real fast after that, ended up a few days later in a Med Unit somewhere making faces at the walls, pointing and screeching about 'snakes!', hiding under the covers if anyone came in his room.  That one time she visited him, just to see if there was any potential remaining there, he totally freaked out, screaming, trying to hide, calling her a Medusa and a bunch of other things.</p><p>For pity's sake!  The kid was speaking metaphorically, EJ was sure of that!  She'd even checked after she'd gotten back to her own flat.  Well, he HAD been pretty damned convincing!</p><p>Switching over to team-up with Major Kingston when he'd approached her about getting Garrison taken out of the picture for 'Conduct Unbecoming', that seemed like a break in the making.  But Kingston double-crossed her!   Seems he intended to take down the whole team, not just Garrison!  Well, she wouldn't have minded that so much by then; she was more than a little pissed at the whole lot of them, them and their narrow minded judgemental prejudice against her, but Kingston didn't know that.  HE thought he was pulling a fast one, figuring to use her.  Hmmmmmmph!</p><p>Well, they'd pulled a fast one on Kingston instead, at least that's what SHE'D heard.  She thought it just served him right, but of course, that didn't further her ambitions one little bit.</p><p>Then, that mess in Annecy!  Damn that McKenna, and Duvalle and Leeds too!  It had been the height of stupidity to even ATTEMPT to pull Garrison's team out of that hole they'd dug for themselves!  She'd TRIED to talk them out of it, tried to make them see reason, but when that proved impossible, well, what was she supposed to do?  Just go along and get herself killed too??!  Not likely!  She did the job she was sent to do, made the exit, got back, and even then she couldn't get a damned break!  Because somehow, the whole damned lot of them had made it back, and suddenly SHE'S the bad guy for doing the sensible thing!!</p><p>And the final straw had been today, with the perfect opportunity just waiting, getting her name put in the stack of applicants, along with a couple of very nice recommendations, then getting that ever-so-polite 'Thanks But No Thanks' from Major Kevin Richards.  He'd even questioned her leadership qualities!!  </p><p>As far as leadership qualities were concerned, she had PLENTY!  Even that episode in Annecy should have shown everyone that!  She'd followed orders, made improvements on the plan she'd been given, stood firm when that idiot McKenna had decided to go crazy and try and rescue Garrison and his team.  Hell, McKenna had even dragged those other two fools along with her.  Just how smart was that, of any of them???</p><p>Still, THEY got the praise, at least from a lot of people, Richards at the top of the list, and for WHAT?  Bringing back that misfit bunch of cons and their arrogant idiot of an officer?  Since when did CRAZY or SUICIDAL get to be a leadership quality?  But to hear Richards, it seems that was now the case.</p><p>Because now, when the ideal opening was available, did Richards give her an honest viewing, make the right decision??  NO!!!!   He had removed her from the rotation entirely,  'pending further consideration of your suitability for field work'!!</p><p>Her infuriated shriek could have been heard next floor up, even if that thrown empty glass crashing into the wall probably wasn't.</p><p>"SOMETIMES A WOMAN JUST CAN'T GET A DAMNED BREAK!!!!!"</p><p>Well, screw that nose-in-the-air Major Richards!!!  She was more than qualified to be a Team Leader, either Special Ops or Special Forces!  One look at the files, the mission reports, would tell you that.  Superb with weapons, highly-polished tactical skills, success rate among the top 15%.  Yet, when those positions were being assigned, did EJ get the call?  No.  When a Team Leader went down, needed to be replaced, even temporarily, did EJ make the cut?  No!   </p><p>Well, that was all going to change and right now!  She was GOING to get a break, in spite of everything and everyone, even if she had to see to it herself!  </p><p>Nevermind what Richards wanted, she was going to have a Team Leader position, come hell or high water!  And she knew just who was going to get it for her too!  Hell, Major Kingston owed her, even if he might not agree.  Well, he didn't NEED to agree!  </p><p>Him and his smug talk about 'Conduct Unbecoming' and 'proper military behavior' and all that!  Well, there was 'Conduct Unbecoming' and there was 'CONDUCT UNBECOMING', as illustrated by Major Sour-Puss himself!  And 'proper military behavior'?  Hmmmmmmmph!  Was THAT what he called it, that multi-layered game he was playing?</p><p>Yes, she'd found out a thing or two about him, and if he didn't want her spreading the word around, he'd just better see she got what was coming to her!  He was going to damn well get her that break!  {"And after he does?  After I'm secure in my new position?  Maybe I just might 'accidentally discover' his misdeeds.  I imagine HQ would be very appreciative to a team leader who managed to uncover a traitor in their midst - very, VERY appreciative!"}</p><p> </p><p>Major Kingston hung up the phone thoughtfully.  The demands had been clear, the threats just as clear.  EJ Moore hadn't been timid about expressing either.</p><p>Yes, he'd had a feeling it was going to come to this.  It often had in the past, regretfully.   It was most annoying, of course.  But that was one of the problems with his job.  You NEEDED confederates, but if you selected someone with the right abililties to get the job done, those abilities - intelligence, ambition, determination, a certain moral pragmatism, among various others - those very abilities could eventually become dangerous to YOU.</p><p>Oh, not always in the same way.  Sometimes the confederates started having second thoughts about the tasks he directed them toward, questioning his orders, his motives, his authority as their leader.  Of course, frequently they were totally unaware of his true motives, but what competent leader DIDN'T keep a great deal to himself?</p><p>At other times, they became greedy, thinking they were of greater importance, greater worth to him than they truly were - thinking they could pressure him in some way to their increased benefit.</p><p>Some, like Moore, totally lost track of just who they were dealing with, thought they could call the shots with Major Lionel Kingston, have him dance to their tune.  And those broad hints of what she'd surmised?  If she knew that much, even suspected that much, this wouldn't be the LAST time she tried to use the information against him.</p><p>Oh, well; he had a few ideas about how to deal with EJ Moore.  {"'Get what's coming to me', I believe those were her exact words.  I believe I can arrange that."}</p><p>In fact, another one or two of his confederates (not that they knew each other, or even ABOUT each other) would be most helpful there.  Pity the one in Annecy had messed up so entirely, letting those women pull that con on him, letting Garrison and his cons get away, come back to cause him more trouble.  Oh, well; the man was useful enough in some ways; he might overlook that failure this one time.</p><p>{"But I HAD been looking forward to being rid of Garrison and his motley crew!  Oh, well.  If at first you don't succeed, try try again, as the saying goes.  But it does GET a little 'trying', after awhile!"} and he smiled to himself at his clever turn of phrase.</p><p> </p><p>Finally she was back in rotation!  Well, no, not exactly, but she WAS headed out for a job, a solo one with Major Kingston as Handler.  In fact, Kingston hadn't even gone to the rotation list, had just called her, told her he had a job for her.  </p><p>She gloated to herself at her plans finally coming together!  </p><p>She STILL couldn't believe another woman had been made a team leader before her, and for the same team where SHE had actually volunteered for the job!  </p><p>{"How utterly unfair is that??!   Obviously McKenna has something on someone, someone higher on the food chain than anyone on my list!  After all, I'll match my leadership qualities against hers any day of the week!"}</p><p>Well, nevermind!  One last independent job, a milk run really, but when she got back Major Kingston promised he'd have it all in place.  A team leader position for her, even with a GOOD team, an established one, not a makeshift one or one of the second-rate ones!  </p><p>She didn't know how Kingston was going to pull it off, getting rid of Reynolds, and she didn't care.  Finally she was going to get a break, even if she'd had to force the issue more than a little!  Well, Kingston would forgive and forget once he saw just how much better Reynolds' team performed under HER leadership!</p><p>Making her way to the drop point, delivering that ludicrous bit of dialogue that was to serve as her identification to the contact, that had been easy.  The man had smiled and nodded, given his own piece of that identification, and had handed over a sealed packet.  </p><p>{"Now, to the exit, and home, and my new team!"} she thought triumphantly.</p><p>The contact smiled, nodded a pleasant farewell as EJ turned to leave.</p><p>It was only moments later when he sheathed the bloody knife and retrieved the worthless package he'd given to the woman he'd been directed to kill.  </p><p>Her body would be found at some point, but any identification she had been carrying would be false; it was doubtful anyone would ever know who she was or why she'd ended up dead in a side alley of Marseilles.  </p><p>In truth, HE didn't really know who or why, didn't want to know - only that he had received his instructions and, as usual, had obeyed them meticulously.  Knowing too much could get you in trouble, as could attempting too much, being too ambitious.  He had the feeling that had been the case with this woman.  Looking down one last time at the still body on the cold stone, {"sometimes all of that, it can even get you killed."}. </p><p> </p><p>And in due course, back in London, Major Kingston directed his aide to annotate EJ Moore's file with a new label, a label that read "Missing In Action, Presumed Dead".  He'd possibly arrange for a letter of commendation as well, backdated to one of her more successful solo missions.  After all, it was the least he could do, see that she got what was coming to her.  Just as she'd demanded, just as he'd promised he would arrange.  Well, a good leader DID keep his committments, after all.</p>
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